Stranger Blues
by TheSextaEspada
Summary: It's impossible to get any sleep when you have a neighbor that'll keep you up all hours of the night with the sounds of (seemingly) amazing sex. If you need any confirmation of that fact, ask your friendly neighborhood Ichigo, who has to suffer through it every night (until he strikes a deal of sorts). GrimmIchi, OOC, yaoi (gay sex), fluff, swearing, AU!
1. Chapter 1

**Stranger Blues**

* * *

 _Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud, Thud, Thud, Thud._

Ichigo sat in bed, just praying to Kami that the loud noises of a headboard banging against the wall would just fucking stop once and for all. If the headboard wasn't enough though, each loud _thud_ would be punctuated with a string of curses coming from a man that was apparently having the time of his life. The first few times it was kind of funny, the orange haired man brushing it off and popping his earphones in, cranking up the music and going back to sleep.

But this was happening daily. Has been for two weeks, with a different man each night screaming his head off. Earphones could only do so much, and since Ichigo's had broken and he didn't have the extra cash laying around to replace them with a decent, sex-noise blocking pair, they didn't do anything at all. He'd even resorted to picking up those little foam earplugs, but all they'd done was betray him by falling out of his little ears and leaving him defenseless to the pleasured moans and groans that bounced off of the walls.

Ichigo could leave as many fucking notes on apartment 6E's door as he wanted to, all pleading the man to shut up and go to sleep for _once_ , but obviously nothing would work. Obviously, because it never stopped. Not even a day's break, and that was really starting to piss the 22 year-old med student off.

The asshole neighbor didn't acknowledge his existence, didn't respond to the notes, didn't even make an effort to keep the noise level down ever- not even for one night. Now Ichigo wasn't a pushover by any means, but he'd never really liked to beat sense into people if things could be solved in a non-violent way; hence the abundance of useless notes left outside of the door to the sex-cave. The young man didn't have an endless amount of patience though, and it seems as if he'd found his breaking point at two weeks.

"Uhh, god! I'm...uhhh. I'm coming, fu-uuck!" The one night stand howled, the thudding increased in tempo and power, the shitty, paper thin walls shuddering and vibrating with the sheer force. Ichigo's scowl deepened considerably as he waited for the other man to cum with that one soft grunt as always, then kick the new boy toy out of his apartment.

 _Ungf._

There it was. Low, but there. He seemed like he was quite good at what he did (if you went by the sounds that always radiated from the unknown man's room), but he never really ended it with a bang, so he must not be getting as good as he gave from anyone. The harsh expression on the orange haired man's face only got worse with time, even after he heard the gruff, muffled baritone of Mr. FuckYouTillYouScream and the bitchy, high pitched whining of the man that literally got screwed over (heh) arguing as the latter got kicked out. There was a muffled _thump_ as the door was slammed, and then there was presumably one, unless Mr. FuckYou (for short) had a roommate that was able to put up with that (but Ichigo seriously doubted it).

If you didn't think that this situation could get worse than it was, that's because you didn't know it was 3am. Not to mention, the ever-vicious Dr. Kurotsuchi was going to give out a torturous exam tomorrow and he was going to pass out in class (as always). This unknown neighbor was going to make him fail a test now, and that's what made this different from the other sleepless nights. Not only was this unknown animal the reason for the half-assed notes Ichigo took because he constantly fell asleep in class, _plus_ the constant scoldings for said sleeping, but he was about to fail an important test _because some dude couldn't keep his dick in his pants for a night_.

This had gone on long enough, and the ginger would beat the ever-loving shit out of the stranger on the other side of the wall if he had to in order to get him to be quieter from now on.

Well no, he wouldn't beat the ever-loving shit out of anyone who hadn't done anything but have loud sex, but he would definitely go have a talk with the man. Ichigo turned his head to his LED alarm clock and let out a tired sigh.

 **3:30am**

Tomorrow. He'd have a talk with the SexStranger tomorrow.

* * *

 _ **I'm not sure how this'll do, but this the start to a new GrimmIchi, and it's my first yaoi as well- so make sure to leave all of your opinions in the reviews, good or bad. I'd really like to know how it is, so feel free to flame and hate or whatever (as long as it's about my writing, if you're just here to tell me how much you don't like yaoi or something, don't bother. Or do. Whatever floats your boat). This could have 5 to 15 chapters, and I'm leaning towards the longer side just because I have a plan, so thoughts on that? Oh, and other chapters will be six or seven times longer, you have been warned.**_

 _ **The pic I used for this Fanfiction is certainly not mine, so feel free to kick my ass and make me take it down if this beauty is yours and you don't like me using it.**_ ** _Bleach ain't mine neither for good measure. I ain't got the cash to get sued._**

 _ **The deal I mentioned in the summary will pop up in the next chapter by the way!~**_

 _ **Love,**_

 _ **TheSextaEspada**_


	2. Chapter 2

**Stranger blues (Chapter 2)**

* * *

"For moral support, that's why!" Ichigo fired back at the lanky blonde, seriously considering just manning up and going alone. His longtime friend, Shinji, was the most flamboyant, obnoxious, over the top guy he knew, and he needed that with him to face Mr. SexIn6E.

Plus, Shinji was gay, and this other guy was gay too, so it was only natural to bring someone with the inside scoop on the situation; or at least that was what Ichigo's thought process was. You've got a problem with a girl? Bring another girl along to help you deal with it. You've got a problem with a guy that has temper issues? You ask a guy that has temper issues for advice. Got a problem with a cashier at a grocery store? You better damn well find yourself another grocery store employee to help you out with it, right? _Right?_

Never-mind; the point was that Shinji was the key to the success or failure of this mission. He was the key, and the key just wouldn't cooperate because it was 11:30am, and the orange-haired man had called like it was an emergency, 'forcing' the blonde to come over in nothing but black basketball shorts, a leopard print t-shirt sporting the words "Sexy And I Know It," scrawled over the chest in huge purple lettering, and a tattered pair of white, slide on vans (no socks). Which was apparently 'practically a crime,' and 'unacceptable on every level.' Blah, blah. Ichigo knew that the only way he was going to get Shinji over at this time was a frantic call, even though it was near the middle of the day.

It felt like Kurotsuchi was even more of a slave driver today than any other day too (even though he didn't really do much), and Ichigo couldn't fall asleep until 5am, which means he got one solid hour of sleep before the dreaded exam took place. That's right, it took place at 8 sharp, and the orangette got there in the nick of time- which was lucky. It was lucky, because the biochemistry professor seemed to get off on berating anyone and anyone who was late, fell asleep, or otherwise interrupted him in a class of 85 students. Great. Since he got there on time though, he wasn't paid any attention by the manic professor, so when he fell asleep in class (yet again) he didn't get the usual treatment because he wasn't snoring like a chainsaw for once, and blended in. Say what you will about Kurotsuchi, but at least when you fell asleep during a lecture, he woke you up and you didn't miss a thing. If he noticed you, that is.

On the bright side, Ichigo had woken up rested and content- that was until he'd looked up at the horrified face of his friend Renji, tattooed eyebrows drawn together, jaw dropped, and burgundy eyes wide and haunted, almost like he'd seen a ghost. _He might have seen the ghost of Ichigo's dreams concerning a passing grade, what with the test that'd been imperative to said passing grade stuck to the orange haired man's face and covered in a combination of dried and fresh drool_. It was okay though, because Kurotsuchi had given Ichigo an out.

 _ **-Flashback-**_

 _ **"Dr. Kurotsuchi? I'm very sorry about this, and I hate to ask, but my neighbor's been keeping me up all night for the past few weeks, and I fell asleep in class today. Is there any possible way that I could take this test? A different time?" Ichigo knew it was probably futile, but he had to ask. Worrying his lip, he stood behind the professor as he wordlessly put away his belongings to grab lunch (and grab his sexy lab assistant, Nemu, along the way [if there's any truth to the rumors]).**_

 _ **"Well..." Ichigo stiffened, already hating the playful lilt to the man's voice. He'd hoped for an out, but Kurotsuchi wasn't exactly known for his understanding nature. Meaning, whatever he was about to offer wasn't going to be pretty.**_

 _ **"There is something you could do to free up my schedule, yes...If you would be so kind as to clean up my lab while I grade your test- the one that you will take during a future lecture- I'd be happy to do it for you, Mr. Kurosaki." The man turned around, revealing an impossibly wide manic grin, and excited golden eyes peering at him behind navy blue hair.**_

 _ **-Flashback-**_

Ichigo'd seen that lab before, and it was understandable that his professor had given him an offer that he couldn't refuse without failing the class in order to get the stressed student to clean it up. Hell, Ichigo would've done the same thing, because _the lab was uninhabitable. It was disgusting. He didn't feel easy walking in without a hazmat suit, no matter how many times Kurotsuchi guaranteed his safety and security_. So needless to say, it was a pretty shit day so far, and it wasn't even noon; all the fault of one man. Ichigo felt that it was only fair to:

A. Drag Shinji down with him.

B. Drag SexIn6E down as well.

Doing so proved to be a challenge though, considering the asshole blonde just wouldn't help out and play his part.

"We aren't all linked by a special rainbow colored string, Ichi! I don' know 'im any better than ya do! Jus' grow a set an' talk to 'im fer once!" Shinji threw his hands up in defeat with a huff, making the redhead groan. Usually he'd storm over after the first few days of a noise problem, but this was different. It was a sex noise problem. He didn't know how to tell his neighbor to keep the people he fucked quiet, and it was like Shinji had not a modicum of shame. That's why he was needed (aside from the gay thing and the dragging people into his misfortune thing); he wouldn't let Ichigo, for lack of a better word, pussy out.

"Well, I still need you there! It's not like you aren't already here anyhow! Just walk over with me!" The orange haired man growled, willing the other man to just give in. Shinji huffed again, spinning toward the door on his heel and letting his cropped blond swish around his angular face. Just as Ichigo was about to protest his leaving, he was cut off by a defeated sigh.

"Aren't cha' comin' with? I wanna see what 'e looks like to hav' all those guys screamin'." Inwardly victory dancing, the med student walked behind his best friend with a small smile, not showing _just_ how pleased he was with this outcome.

"Yes." he nodded, suddenly nervous for what's to come. It's like he was about to face an enemy that he's never defeated before, not once. Swiping his keys out of the little bowl on the end table that sat beside the entrance-way, he left his little place, trying to drown out the nerves.

'This man is a powerful adversary indeed.' He bit his lip as they made the dreaded walk to apartment 6E. Ichigo found himself wondering what this guy looks like, what he sounds like...he'd never really got a chance to hear his neighbor's voice properly. Getting lost in his own thoughts, Ichigo sifted through the people who he knew lived on the other side. A sleepy looking brunette with piercing grey eyes? A pink haired guy with glasses?

'Nah, the first guy looks like he needs his sleep, and the second one puts off a "uke" sort of vibe...' If there was one thing that Ichigo (and probably the entire floor) knew about 6E, was that whoever lived in there was a seme (or dom, as they'd say in the U.S.), and a pretty damn good one at that.

"Ichi! Ya can't drag me over here 'n then space out!" A forgotten Shinji snapped, as they were now standing in front of 6E. The redhead looked up and focused on the now-ominous slab of grey-painted wood, the silver apartment number glinting in the dim lighting.

"Right. _Right._ " He nodded, bouncing on the balls of his feet and praying to Kami that the guy would be somewhat normal, the 22 year old raised a fist, rapping on the cheap material as hard as he could. Stepping back, he nodded again, satisfied with the loud sound and already falling into disgruntled neighbor mode.

"Yer really somethin," Shinji said with a shake of his head, leaning against the opposite wall and heaving a sigh, hazel eyes trained on the door. With that, they waited. And waited. And waited.

And _were kept waiting for 15 minutes._

"What the fuck is he doing?" Ichigo narrowed glistening bronze eyes at the ugly door, shifting his feet uncomfortably on the puke green carpet. It was a shitty apartment complex, but he'd needed something close to the school he went to, Seireitei University. The rent in Japan wasn't nearly as high as the rent here, so he had to settle while he attended college. He'd gotten a beautiful scholarship, a full ride (and he'd busted his ass for it every step of the way), so he really didn't have anything to complain about; Ichigo considered himself one of the lucky ones, never taking anything he got for granted. Even if he lived in a rundown apartment building, in which his shitty neighbor still hadn't opened up the door.

With a barely concealed growl, he hammered the poor door a second time, this time like it stole from him and hit his sister. "What the fuck?" the orangette wondered aloud once again, turning to his friend.

"Ya look like a middle age' man Ichi." Shinji giggled behind his hand at the ever present scowl on the annoyed young man's face. "Ya're gonna get 'churself some wrinkles soon!" Rasing himself up off of the other side of the wall, he poked the spot where dark orange brows were drawn together, releasing another round of giggles when he was swatted away in annoyance.

"Oi! You'd have wrinkles too if you had to suffer through this!" Ichigo shot back, annoyed. I mean, who the fuck did this man think he was? Kami? Did this man think he was a God? Some sort of deity that didn't have to deal with pissed off neighbors and their sleeping habits?

The redhead felt his blood boiling in his veins, hotter and hotter the longer he stewed in his frustration. Raising his hand once more, he pounded on the wood, making it rattle in the frame dangerously. He knew that irritating man was there, he just knew. In some deep, dark corner of his mind, he realized that he was being irrational, but if you'd ever actually seen the mess in Kurotsuchi's lab with your own eyes _then had been cornered into cleaning it_ , you'd know that he had reason to be more than a little irrational.

"C'mon, les' go Ichi, he obviously 'sn't home." Shinji shook his head, blonde bob swishing with the movement. No...he knew. This was the only time he was going to be able to do this; the conditions were perfect. He had Shinji, the deities were on his side, the sun was shining, the birds were chirping. All he needed to do was get this man out of his apartment. With a rough shake of his head, he continued abusing the portal, this time with no breaks.

"He's here, I can tell. Just wait." Bronze orbs trained on the doorknob, he ignored the exasperated sigh of his half German friend in favor of listening for footsteps. Then, he finally made some progress, thank Kami-sama. There was a thud, a muffled curse, and finally, heavy steps that were getting closer and closer. He nearly felt tears of relief pricking at his eyes, but didn't stop his assault on the worn out door until he felt like he'd done enough.

Slinking back, he gripped at Shinji's forearm as he continued to observe the steel, round doorknob for movement. All of the nerves and doubts he had about this plan had rushed back, crashing into him like a runaway freight train.

"Stop bein' such a babe and face 'im! Yer gonna have to do it sooner or later wit'out me! _Blödmann_ _ **(3)**_ _!_ " The blonde cursed, shoving the anxious orangette forward, right as the door was suddenly flung open. An annoyed looking young man was revealed, half naked body leaning against the frame of the entranceway, his scowl rivaling Ichigo's previous one.

Ichigo isn't the least bit gay. No, he was straight as an arrow, but he's always been able to appreciate male beauty on some level, and was this guy was as beautiful as Ichigo's hair was orange. He stood at about 6'2, body lean, but definitely muscular. Tan, thickly corded biceps crossed over a sculpted chest, right above a trim waist, and casting a shadow along an eight pack that gracefully fed into twin Adonis lines- what was between them (besides the obvious) you ask? A thin line of powder blue hair, trailing to a black pair of boxers. The orange haired man realized that he was essentially looking at another guy's dick, and promptly schooled his face into the usual scowl, steeling himself before looking up. When he did, he almost regretted it, as his tea colored eyes met the bluest pair of catlike orbs he'd ever seen, set in a face that would make Cupid cry.

6E didn't just have a pretty body, he had a pretty face too. His glorious mug was complete with an angular jaw line, high cheekbones, thin blue eyebrows, and like icing on the fucking cake, he had beautiful, silky looking sky blue locks, messy and framing his features. His pinkish lips were wet and plumpish and almost...

Moving?

Oh!

Ichigo tuned back in, hoping that no one caught on to the fact that he was just blankly staring for a few minutes. With the look that Shinji gave him though, he knew that all hope was lost, and they'd have to talk about it later.

"...woke me up. Ya're pretty damn loud there, drummer boy. Almost as loud as yer bozo hair." The orange haired man couldn't control the sneer that twisted his lips as he shot back, blatantly ignoring the warning glances coming from his friend.

"You're one to talk, I've never actually met anyone that would glow under a black-light before now, so thanks for being my first. PIus, I don't think you can say anything about my noise level, asshole!" The annoyed student tilted his head up, desperately trying to cover for the three inch height difference between them. He knew for a fact that this stranger was stronger than himself, but he could take the bigger man down in a physical fight if necessary with his speed and grace (years of karate, folks).

"Whatcha' mean by that, you noisy lil' fuck?" 6E leaned down to glare into almond shaped bronze eyes, just serving to infuriate the smaller man, not intimidate like he'd obviously intended.

Suddenly, Ichigo forgot about his nerves and hesitations, even took back his earlier, superficial opinion of the blue haired man in 6E, because as far as the ginger was concerned- the guy staring into his eyes was _nothing but a jarhead_.

"You ever check your door, asshole?" The orangette started. "Who the fuck do you think has been leaving you notes for two weeks asking you to keep your fucking partners quiet! I don't need to hear all of your bitchy one night stands screaming their heads off at 3am! It's bad enough that I missed a test because of you, but now _you have the nerve to-_ "

"What my friend here is trying to say," Shinji dropped the slurs and shortened words out of his speech in exchange for a smooth, calming tenor that's only broken out when he's aiming to please. "Is that he'd appreciate it if you could keep your partners quiet while he's trying to sleep. You see, Ichigo's a med student, and it's hard to do the work when you fall asleep during the lessons. I definitely understand why you get those screams though, and I'll damn sure regret it if I don't give you my number before we part ways." The blonde produced a business card for Hirako designs, the fashion company that he and his mother run, seemingly out of nowhere. He tore it in half so only his number was left with a flourish, then graced sex in 6E with a mile wide Cheshire cat grin, quickly falling into place beside his best friend.

Ichigo was left gaping like a fish at the entire display, clenching and unclenching his fists because he just couldn't decide who to hit first. Wasn't Shinji supposed to be on _his_ side? Weren't they supposed to be disgruntled _together_? Yet again, his thought process was cut off by the gritty, deep voice of 6E.

"I'll call you, definitely," He gave a 1000 watt smile, sharper-than-usual canines gleaming against the rinky-dink fluorescent lighting of the hallway, pairing it with a wink that probably drops pants on the regular. "Unfortunately, that doesn't have anything to do with your friend's situation here. I'd love to get to know the both of you, and maybe if he let me take him out sometime, I'd try to keep things quieter. Do you think you could get him to accept, handsome?" Shinji gave a giggle and turned to Ichigo, hazel eyes shimmering with excitement.

The orangette was concerned. If he didn't know any better, he'd consider this an act of witchcraft, tie 6E to a boulder, and drop him underwater to see if he would sink or cast a spell to save his life.

"Ichi, you should go on a date with him!" And that's where blonde should've stopped, but he didn't. "It's been so long since Rukia! You really need to get out and have some _fun_." Ichigo wasn't amused. His sneer was now directed at Shinji, who sent a wink at him and smiled like he'd won the lottery.

"Shinji, didn't you come over to help me, not him-" On a roll, the redhead spun on his heel and stared down the amused blunette. "And you- don't try to pit my friends against me- and don't try to use your fucking charm on me. I hate to break it to you, but I'm straight as a rod. So if you could just- if you could just keep your lovers quiet, I'd really appreciate it." He sighed, knowing it wasn't going to be too easy from the way that 6E's grin widened and turned a little feral. He suddenly felt like prey, and it sent a shiver down his spine. The worst part was, he couldn't decide if it was a pleasant feeling or not, which was scary for a whole other set of reasons.

"Did ya just say you find me charming? While I'm flattered, I'm also disappointed that ya're not even considerin' mi offer. A little hurt. I just want cha to go on one short date with me, and I'll keep the noise level down for a couple nights, huh? It ain't such a bad deal when ya get down to the core aspects, am I right? Just let me take ya out for dinner, and everything should be quiet as a church mouse on Christmas eve for a couple days, 'less you decide to join me on one of those nights. If you do, I can't make any promises..." he trailed off, his feral, predatory expression toning down into something a little more sultry and smarmy.

'Smarmy. That's a perfect word for it. I don't even know how else to describe that look.' Ichigo thought, seething. The guy _must_ think he's Kami, he thinks he can turn a straight guy gay.

"Look, I can't accept your offer. Like I said, I'm straight, meaning I'm not interested. We've got to figure something out, because I can't go on missing lectures because you can't keep your dick in your pants. So why don't you just..." the embarrassment was coming back in full force, but the orangette managed to force it down, looking away from mirth filled, blue kaleidoscope eyes. He had to, if he was ever going to push out those few words. "Why don't you just fuck in a different room?" He muttered, ears glowing noticeably red from where they stuck out behind shiny orange locks, and bronze orbs focusing on the ratty carpeting.

"Well ya see, my bed is the only place I can do that. I think it's kind of hot to pound a beautiful submissive into the mattress...I like it sort of rough, but it doesn't mean I can't slow it down every once in a while, ya know?" 6E teased, both him and an amused blonde watching the red start to crawl up from under the collar of a black "Ride the Lightning" Metallica t-shirt to inch up a neck, chin, and angular jaw, a set of dimpled cheeks, then finally brushing over a lightly freckled nose and cheekbones.

"Hehe, I love et when ya do that, ya look like a thermometer!" Shinji giggled, reaching up to muss orange hair.

"Fuck off! I just need some quiet!" The blushing young man stared up at the cocky one almost pleadingly, pushing the hands of his friend off of him as well.

"My offer still stands, Ichigo," 6E leaned down and let a small smirk grace his lips. "Ya won't regret going out with me, not once, not ever. Come back anytime." He turned, revealing a large, gothic six tattoo on the mid right side of his sculpted back, making Shinji squeal and Ichigo groan.

"By the way," He tossed the same smirk over his shoulder at the redhead. "The name's Grimmjow Jaegerjaques. Remember that name, because you'll need something to yell out and annoy the neighbors with when you finally accept my offer." And with that, the door was slammed in their faces.

It took a few for everything to sink in, yeah. Ichigo took a few deep breaths and smiled at Shinji, striding back to his apartment quickly and letting the rough polyester of his warm-ups swish together. The blonde trailed him, both of them walking around to the other side of the wall in silence, with only the _swish-swish_ sounds of their pants and the hollow _thuds_ of their footfalls between them.

The orangette didn't fully understand what just happened, as he was dealing with too many warring emotions at once. So when it finally clicked for him, they were inside the apartment Ichigo called his home, and he was dealing with a vicious eye twitch. On the bright side, Shinji managed to get away in time to avoid the fiery temper of his friend when he finally burst.

"That conceited, _cocky- Kami kuso watashi no!_ _ **(1)**_ _Watashi wa aitsu o koroshimasu!_ " Ichigo howled, sending his fist flying at the wall as soon as the door was shut, hissing at the pain soon after.

"Hey now! Ya ain't gotta kill 'im! You don't know what kinda guy he is for sure! Plus, he's hot, even you were checking him out, Mr. StraightAsAnArrow." Shinji poked his head out from behind the little, once-white loveseat in a way that Ichigo had once drunkenly admitted was adorable, the blonde just able to understand the last bit of the Japanese curse. "Watashi wa aitsu o koroshimasu," = "I'll kill that bastard."

The whirlwind of rage was suddenly directed at the unfortunate man still partially hidden behind the dingy piece of furniture. "You. You baka! How are you going to go with me to confront this guy and then give him your number?! He wasn't that good looking! He was a jar-headed baka! Then he had the nerve to refuse to shut the hell up for _one night! One measly night!_ _He flat out told me I'd be screaming his name if I came over! Kokkījāku!_ _ **(2)**_ " The redhead suddenly dropped to his knees and deflated, his mood changing on a dime.

"Why do I always get dealt a bad hand? Please Kami, tell me why..."

Shinji came up behind him, rubbing soothing circles on his back now that the threat was gone. "I'm sorry baby, he was just so good looking! The love of my life...and I've lost him to you." Ichigo snorted and shook his head.

"You say that about all of the cute boys...you even said that to me when we met..." With a shake of the head, the blonde pulled them both up to stand.

"I'm ignorin' the fact that cha just called yaself cute, even if you are adorable. Maybe you should just give Grimmjow a chance though, seriously Ichi. If ya don't have fun, you still get a couple a' fuck free days, right?" Shinji did have a point. Ichigo was the type of person to refuse to be driven out of his own home because of some baka that wants to have sex, and he'd refused any offers he got from his friends to stay over on the night of the test. That would just feel like failure to him, so he had no other options. The only thing he could do is twist Grimmjow's offer a bit, making himself feel like he was like he was choosing to do this because he wanted to (which would still be kind of humiliating). Either that, or admit defeat and let himself be pushed off of his own, rented property by some stranger (which would also be humiliating).

The only problem was that he wasn't gay, and he would never be gay. He obviously had no problem with gay people, but he'd never really felt gay. So he wasn't about to go on a gay date with a gay guy that was expecting gay sex.

 _Right?_

Ichigo let out a gusty sigh. Decisions, decisions.

 _ **-One Week Later-**_

"I'm sorry Mr. Kurosaki, but this is the only available time slot I have. If you can clean my lab next Friday, I'd love to let you take the test the day before. This is the only time I will be free to do so, and I'm doing you a favor, so please take this opportunity, lest you let your grade suffer." Kurotsuchi trilled over the phone, knowing he'd won the minute he'd said the words "grade suffer."

Ichigo clenched his teeth and growled inaudibly, still clutching the small, rectangular phone in his hand. Kurotsuchi had called a week after the Grimmjow incident, telling his student that he's scheduled the lab to be cleaned (no, he wanted Ichigo to clean the lab) next Friday, a week from the call. That would've been fine and dandy too, had the redhead come to a decision concerning the irritating blunette.

That's right, every night without fail, there would still be a different man in the Jaegerjaques' apartment howling in pleasure, only this time around, there was a distinct teasing air surrounding the moments after the one night stand was kicked out. Almost like Grimmjow was telling the poor med student that he could end the torture if he wanted, he just had to follow the rules of the blue bastard's tiny minded little game. The orangette swore that he'd heard Shinji in there too once, only adding to the teasing feeling of the entire, petty situation. The sad part is, the orange head wouldn't be the least bit shocked if it _was_ his longtime friend getting, quote: pounded into the mattress. Unquote. Sure, he'd feel a little betrayed (Shinji was on his side, damn it!), but not surprised.

So there he was, stuck between a failure and a Grimmjow. He'd made his decision as he was speaking to his professor though; a date with some Kokkījāku wasn't as bad as failing a class that he'd worked his ass off to get into in the first place. It also wasn't as bad as begging a friend to let him hole up at their place because he "couldn't handle the big, bad neighbor." He'd man up and go on the stupid fucking date, even though it might cost him a tiny bit of his pride to do so.

"Thank you for the opportunity Dr. Kurotsuchi. I really appreciate it, and I'd love to clean your lab up on Friday." Ichigo grit out, closing his eyes and exchanging goodbyes with the strange professor. He knew what he had to do. Steeling his nerves, he ended the call and stood up from the tiny loveseat, grabbing a piece of paper and scribbling on it, then shoving into his pocket and hanging his head like he was about to walk into a battlefield.

Not even stopping to look at his reflection, he stomped out of the room with keys in hand, solid black, sk8 hi vans thumping against the carpeting and very likely disturbing the poor people who lived on the floor below them (floor 12). He was wearing mesh basketball shorts and a tank top with some kanji on it that translated to: bad boy. He didn't have to impress anyone. He just had to get this over with.

The moment he got to 6E, he nearly punched the door he hit it so hard, and it took a while, but the wooden portal slid open, revealing a man with a very familiar cocky expression.

"So, have ya made ya decision yet, Ichi?" The blunette drawled lazily, catlike eyes still filled with plain humor.

Reluctantly, the orange haired man nodded, looking up into the seemingly endless sea of blue inside Grimmjow's orbs with a defeated sigh.

"Yeah. Fine. Take me on a date tomorrow, and if you aren't as quiet as a mouse until next Friday, I'll personally come over here and beat you senseless. Are we clear?" Ichigo said with a scowl, shoving the little piece of paper he'd written his number on right before he left into the waiting hands of his future date.

"Crystal. Like I said, ya won't regret it! I'll text ya with the info." Grimmjow turned (thankfully clothed this time) and gave a short wave over his shoulder, closing the door again.

'Kami-sama,' Ichigo thought. 'Tomorrow's going to be a long fucking day.'

* * *

 _ **Ahh! There we have it! I'd like to thank the people who reviewed, followed, and added my little brain gem here to their favorites! It really means a lot, and I hope you enjoyed the first two chapters of the story!**_

 _ **So we've got a bit of Japanese and German thrown into this one, so I'ma jot down a few translations for ya (Google translate sucks sometimes, so don't blame me if this is a little off):**_

 _ **(1)**_ _Kami kuso watashi no! - My fucking god!_

 _ **(2)**_ _Kokkījāku! - Cocky jerk!_

 _ **(3)**_ _Blödmann! - Dumbass! (German)_

 _Kami/Kami-sama - God/Lord_

 _Baka - Idiot, silly._

 _ **I still ain't got the money to get sued, and I ain't a thief neither. Bleach is not my baby, I don't own it, nor do I claim to. This picture is not mine. If it's yours and you don't want me using it, feel free to kick my ass, then tell me to piss off and learn to draw digitally.**_

 _ **This concludes chapter 2 of Stranger Blues- and yes, I'm about to shamelessly ask you to leave your opinions and fave/follow this if you enjoy it and want to see more. Shamelessly. Thanks for reading, and goodbye! Next time we fnd out how that date goes!~**_

 _ **Much love,**_

 _ **TheSextaEspada**_


	3. Chapter 3

**Stranger Blues (Chapter 3)**

* * *

Four rows of dark orange eyelashes fluttered apart, the owner letting a small, contented smile grace his pink lips. For the first time in a long time, Ichigo woke up from a pleasant, undisturbed sleep, and in his morning haze, he couldn't think of anything wrong with this situation.

"Ahh..." the orangette stretched, reaching up to run long fingers through his vibrant locks. He couldn't remember the last time he felt so rested. He vaguely wondered what happened to his noisy, sexy neighbor. Grimmjow's usual antics were non-existent, and while he was grateful, he was confused and suspicious. Then, it all came rushing back to the young man at once, the events of the previous day filling his head and souring his mood near instantly.

"Fucking hell!" He had a date today. He had a date with a _man_ today. _He had a date with a man that he considered a jarhead today_. Angrily stomping out of bed, he stood fast enough to make his head spin. Why did he agree to this? Why couldn't he just form an apartment mob or something and get Grimmjow kicked out? A date? Really?

Ichigo knew that this was essentially his fault, and as a mature adult, he could've thought of a better way to deal with the problem if he really wanted to. Truth be told though, this seemed like an easy temporary solution for the problem at hand, and true to his word, the man _did_ keep quiet for a night. So what was one date with some infuriating baka? Nothing, especially when you factor in the fact that one out of the two parties wasn't interested, and would never be interested.

'Seriously,' the redhead thought. 'What's his deal? Is he short on people to screw?' As far as the orangette was concerned, it would be hanging out with a guy he didn't like for a night in exchange for some much needed peace and quiet. Ichigo could handle it, but it just scared him a little calling it a date.

The word kept ringing around in his head, chiming over and over again in a taunting fashion. Date, date, date. It had him feeling like a woman, wondering where they'd go and what he'd wear- should he go casual? Should he put on a bowtie and a top hat? Was he paying for himself, or was Grimmjow the type to treat his dates well? Tch. _What a gentleman that would make him..._

Heaving a sigh, the young man padded to the bathroom and did his business, all the while wondering what the hell he'd gotten himself into. He finally caved and decided he needed help, and there were only three people that could really help him in this situation. Striding out of the bathroom, he mentally prepared himself to do what he needed to do, snatching up his phone and reluctantly making some calls.

* * *

"Bahahahha- 'M s-sorry. I just- I- hahahaha!" His albino twin cackled mercilessly, clutching his side with one hand and rolling over, pounding at the rough material of the loveseat he was on with the other.

The redhead's eye twitched. It was 4 o'clock, and he'd called Shinji, his friend Rukia, and his brother, Shirosaki over to help him out of his little predicament. None of them were actually being helpful though, seeing as Shiro couldn't stop giggling to save his life, Rukia was nose bleeding over the yaoi potential, and Shinji was going on about how hot the guy was. None of them were giving him any real advice, and it was starting to piss him off.

"Focus! He is going to call soon and I still don't know what the hell I'm supposed to do!" Ichigo growled, picking up a pillow and whacking his nearly identical twin with it.

"Aye! The fuck's wrong with ya, King? Just cause ya made a mistake, don't mean ya gotta take it out on the guy who's laughin' at ya for bein' stupid! Ya shoulda just beat his face in!" Shiro shot up from his seat, creepy eyes glowing in ire, meant to intimidate. He had his sclera tattooed at 16, and never looked back (pun intended), so while the natural color if his irises was still gold, what would've been the whites of his eyes were pitch black. It usually either scared the shit out of people or attracted them in flocks, but they had absolutely no effect on his orange haired brother. While Ichigo first saw them when he moved to America four years ago (as Shiro was sent to a military school here right before he got them done) they'd never really bothered him. All he's ever seen when he's looked at his slightly younger brother is a dumbass (whom he loves, but still), and a couple of creepy tattoos hadn't changed that.

"No! He 'as sucha' pretty face! You shoulda seen et, all cheekbones and jaw line. Like he was chiseled from fuckin' marble! Openin' the door in fuckin' boxers too, like he was tryin' to give Shin-Shin a heart attack!" Shinji crooned, eyes glazed as he remembered the planes and lines that made up Grimmjow's body, sighing dreamily and sinking into the loveseat by Shiro, who gave up and sat back down near immediately. "Sides, s'not a mistake. Ichi wants this, 's all nervous cause he doesn't wanna dissapoin' the future love of his life, right Ichi?" For that, got a hard smack to the head.

"Baka! You just don't get it, do you? I am going on a _date_ with a _man_ that I _loathe._ On top of that, I don't know who the hell he is! He could be a fucking psychopath for all I know! Even if he isn't, I'm subjected to his cocky attitude all night long, not to mention that he is probably going to want sex from me!" The orangette ranted, pinning each of them with hard glares and standing up to pace around, bare feet thumping near-silently on the brown, tightly woven carpet.

"Exactly, you don't even know him!" Rukia snapped out of her perverted stupor and screeched. "He could be a sweet guy, and you might just be too much of a stubborn asshole to give him a chance! You've always been like that- you never trying anything new! You could have the time of your life, but here you are, whining and bitching about how you don't wanna! _You're_ the idiot!" The small woman scowled, going to stand in front of her ex-boyfriend and narrowing her large, amethyst eyes.

Her and Ichigo dated for a while a few months back, parting when the small raven developed feelings for his cousin, Kaien Shiba, while work as a photographer brought him to the U.S. Ichigo hadn't protested and gracefully let her go, staying by her side as a friend although he still harbored feelings for her that ran deep. While the redhead hoped that she'd come back eventually, he knew when it was time to quit pursuing someone who's interested in another man, although that someone else was happily married. The orangette would still do anything for her in a heartbeat though; that much hasn't changed, even if sometimes, she might not deserve it.

Snapping out of his momentary trance, he narrowed his chocolate eyes right back. No matter how in love he was with her, they could still fight for hours.

"You haven't even met him, midget! You haven't seen those damn eyes, always thinking he's the best! I hate those damn eyes!" The man moved his hand from his hair, rubbing it over his face and groaning.

"You sound insane, Kurosaki! And don't call me midget, you orange haired freak!" Sparks started to fly as the two glowered at each-other, daring the other to back off.

"He 'S 'nsane. He shoulda just beat the shit outta' that guy n'stead a' goin' on a date with 'im!" Shiro cackled, shaking his head. "I could help ya if ya're scared, King." The albino widened his ever present grin tauntingly.

"If I wanted to fight him, I would've done it! There's no reason to beat the shit out of people who haven't hurt anyone! I just did this for some peace, and hopefully I can convince him to keep it down in the future without any more dates! Do you ever think, or did you lose your brain when you lost your coloring?!" Ichigo hissed, breaking the staring contest to scowl at his brother, who shook his head in mock disappointment. The redhead finally deflated. "I just...what do I do? Is it like a girl date? Do I show up looking _'pretty'_ , or casual? I mean, semi-casual might work..." He stopped when Rukia squealed, fanning herself.

While Rukia was fangirling, the albino doubled over in laughter again, clutching his heaving stomach and falling to the floor. "You...are..s-such...a...ch-chick..." The man cackled.

The orangette was about to hit him, but the Shinji beat him to the punch. Whacking the ash white head, he crooned. "Thas' so cute! Ya just wanna look nice for yer man, so don't listen to this oaf!"

Fighting the urge to roll his eyes petulantly, Ichigo settled for clenching his teeth. "I don't care what I look like, but I have a feeling that this asshole won't consider this a date if I don't look like I've tried. And not only do I have to _look_ like this is a date, I have to _act_ like this is a date. Gah! You three are useless!" he dropped down in one of the two leather chairs beside the loveseat, frowning.

"I don't see what the big deal is. Just act like yourself, you don't have to be flirty and pretty, swishing your hair around and wearing lipstick." The short, raven haired girl pointed out, ignoring the loud "Hah!" She got from Shiro at the imagery.

"'Xactly Ichi! Just be yerself and all a' the pieces 'll fall n' place." Shinji said with a mile wide grin, showcasing nearly all of his pearly white teeth.

"I guess you're right. If it goes on too long though, someone's got to bail me out. Actually, never mind, because none of you will do it. I'll just call Chad." Ichigo grumbled under his breath. Shiro's always had his back, even when he was sent to military school as a punishment for trashing the lawn of a teacher that he didn't like with the help of his brother. He could've held the fact that Ichigo was the one who got to stay (as their father said that they needed to be separated) against him, but he kept in contact through near daily e-mails and messages through the two years that they were apart. The redhead trusts his brother with life, but knows the albino has a tendency to do shit to mess with him. _Shit like 'forgetting' to call and bail him out._ The other two just wouldn't do it, in hopes that he hooks up with the bastard and forgets about wanting to leave.

Chad's been friends with the redhead ever since he moved to the States, and he's the type of guy that would do anything for a friend in need. The tall, half Mexican, half Hawaiian man wouldn't ask too many questions, and would just call to help out; obviously the right guy for the job.

Rukia opened her mouth, most likely about to say something about her being the most dependable person here, but they heard a familiar sound, and froze.

 _California, rest in peace!_

 _Simultaneous release!_

 _California, show your teeth!_

 _She's my priestess, I'm your priest!_

Ichigo had an out of body moment when he heard _Dani California_ blaring from the little object in his back pocket, the vibrations making him jump a foot up in the air and cry out, he was so on edge. Hands shaking, he brought the glossy rectangle out and stared at the unfamiliar number dumbly. He just knew he was supposed to be doing something important...

"Answer it, Ichi! I swear I'm gonna do it if you don't!" Shinji threatened, reaching his hand out and grabbing for the phone. Nervously, the young man shook his head, making his shaggy orange locks swish before his eyes. With a rough inhale, he tapped the green phone symbol on the face of his iPhone 5s, bringing it up to his ear and forcing himself to sound normal.

"Hey, who is this?" Like he wasn't agonizing over this person all day today and yesterday.

 _"Take a guess, babe."_

Ignoring the strange shiver that ran down his spine, he rolled his shoulders and scowled as if the owner of the voice was in front of him, smirking like he was above everyone.

"Don't call me that, Grimmjow." Ichigo coolly replied, ignoring the squeals and the giggles coming from the people around him.

 _"Why, does it turn ya on?"_

The redhead felt his eye twitch and his expression darken, but didn't show weakness by letting his voice be affected.

"No, quite the opposite; makes me feel a little sick."

 _"I don' believe ya. I feel like ya're holding back a moan, thinking about me on top of you, showing ya the time of your life, no? Ya don't want to feel my arms around ya, pulling you closer ya and closer and holding ya as I fuc-"_

"Grimmjow!" The orangette flushed and held his phone in a vice-like grip, finally letting the irritation pierce his calm facade.

 _"Yes, baby?"_

"I'm hanging up on you." He said with finality, ignoring the loud laughter mixed with pleas to stay radiating from the small speaker. The man was about to end the call, quiet nights be damned, when a tiny hand shot out, gripping his wrist.

Ichigo looked up and met violent violet eyes, filled with the promise of pain if he pressed the little red button. Grumbling, he raised the object back to his face.

"Fine, I'm not leaving- just tell me what you've got in mind for our..." He couldn't even say it. It was too much.

 _"For our date?"_ The mirth filled voice crooned, and he fought the urge to gag at the tone and words.

"Yeah. For that." The redhead deadpanned with a short shake of his head.

 _"Don't sound so damn enthusiastic. I'll swing by at 8 to pick ya up, alright? Dress casual, bring condo-"_

"Alright, I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that shit. Apartment 16E, and don't be late or anything." Ichigo said with a facepalm, grinding his teeth and trying to control the vein in his head that was threatening to burst.

 _"I wouldn't be late ta pick up anyone_ half _as handsome as you. Be ready babe, three hours."_

Ichigo decided that the babe thing was a losing battle, so he just hung his head and sighed, his blush darkening.

"Fine, where are we going though?" he asked.

 _"You'll see. I've got to get ready, bye Ichi!"_

"Wait, tell...me. Bastard!" The young man yelled into the receiver as if Grimmjow could hear him. The already dark expression he was wearing turned murderous, bronze eyes glaring at the screen.

"Well, what are we waiting for? Let's get him ready!" Rukia turned to Shinji and Shiro, one still cackling and one crooning.

The orangette shook his head, snorting. The way he saw it, he was a grown man, and no one had to dress him. "I can get myself dressed, assholes, I'm not a kid. Besides, he said casual. I can handle casual; not to mention I have three whole hours."

The raven chuckled lowly, perching herself on the arm of his chair. "Okay then Ichigo, what do you intend to wear?" The young man in question shrugged.

"T-shirt and jeans?" He replied, rolling bronze orbs at Shinji's gasp.

"What if it gets cold? Huh? Actually, what about a belt? You need one of those, right? Accessories? Cologne? _Shoes?_ " The violet eyed girl fired off in rapid succession, not stopping to let her friend think too hard about it.

"Uh...I..." Ichigo stumbled, eyes widening innocently. What was wrong with just a t-shirt and jeans?

"Jus' c'mon King, ya don't know the first thing bout' this shit, let us help ya out." Shiro sighed, standing up and grabbing his twin's arm, going to pull him up off of the black leather. Say what you will about the guy, but he knows his way around fashion. There's never a day when he's not dressed perfectly to a T, saying something about the guys and gals appreciating the effort.

"I...I don't know..." The redhead let himself be dragged into his bedroom, although slightly hesitant.

"Yer gonna get all fancy for yer man! Ahh, ya guys 'll be so good together!" Shinji cheered, trailing them and dragging Rukia along as well.

"He isn't my man!" the young man howled, face flushed red.

 _ **-About two hours and forty-five minutes later-**_

"If ya weren't with that beautiful piece a' man, I'd bang ya Ichi!"

Ichigo scowled at his reflection. The three people that stood around him in front of his tiny bathroom mirror took an entire three hours to put him in a t-shirt and jeans, just like he suggested in the first place. Although they did add a few things he hadn't thought of, the principle was still the same; they took forever to do something he could've done himself. His version would just be less flashy.

He was clad in a form fitting white t-shirt, and solid black skinny jeans held up by an unnecessary, but fashionable dark grey seat belt style belt, the buckle a plain silver and black. He'd donned the dark grey leather jacket his brother gave him on his last birthday, hence the two black zippers running along the chest, and the black pyramid studs running along the collar. The ensemble was brought together with a black g-shock watch on the young man's wrist, tiny black pyramid studs in his ears, and a black cuff attached to the shell of one. His orange hair was unruly and spiky as always, hanging into his chocolate eyes, and nearly hiding his freshly plucked (yeah, freshly plucked. Rukia said manscaping was in and plucked his eyebrows, but refused to do the rest for obvious reasons) auburn eyebrows. Plus, he was sprayed down with cologne, which admittedly, smelled really good. The only things missing were the shoes, which he wouldn't put on in the house, but were his solid black sk8 hi Vans.

In short, he looked good. He was a little annoyed because he was convinced that he could've done all of that himself in much less time, but he looked good.

"Ya clean up nice, King!" Shiro grinned his manic grin, smacked his brother on the back roughly, slung an arm around his shoulders and steered him out of the tiny bathroom, Rukia and Shinji trailing along.

"I don't understand why the hell I needed you three to help me _dress myself._ " The redhead grumbled, shuffling into the room and plopping down in a leather seat. The nerves had come back full force, and he was left wondering why they were there and threatening to choke him. He was on a mission, he didn't have time to be nervous for what's to come; he had to be ready for anything that blue haired bastard sprang on him, so he couldn't afford to be as nervous as he was. No matter what the redhead did though, he still couldn't manage to get rid of the uneasy feelings running rampant throughout his body, so he opted just to distract himself by talking. "I didn't need your help." Ichigo grunted, wearing an expression that definitely wasn't a pout.

"Actually, ya did. Ya don't got a drop a' stylish blood running' through yer veins. Guess ya brother got the style and ya got the color or somethin.'" Shinji grinned, dodging the twin punches that were aimed at him with grace.

"You have some style, yeah. Just not enough to look decent on a date. I would know." Rukia smirked at her friend, lounging over the leather seat opposite him and blissfully unaware of the darkening of both the blonde and albino's expressions. They were aware of the unrequited feelings that Ichigo harbored, and didn't approve of some of the things she said. They loved her, but they wished she watched her mouth at times, even though the redhead isn't bothered by the things she says for the most part.

Ichigo, however, wasn't even on the same page as the people that were near-glowering at the raven, instead, he was focusing on the word _date._

He's been on dates before, mind you. He's dated many girls, had sex with many girls, had relationships with many girls. He's never gone on a date with a _guy_ before. _And even if he had, it probably wouldn't have been a smarmy, smooth talking, black boxer wearing, blue hair having, guy._

He was confused, and that just wouldn't do, so he'd ignore it until it became a problem.

"It's not a real date! It's something I'm doing in order to get a few peaceful nights in. My professor won't give me another chance if I fuck up this test, and then I will have failed. This is means a to better myself; sometime in the next few years, you will be calling me "Dr. Kurosaki" because I went through with this." Ichigo said with his usual, albeit occasional, small smile.

"Ya, either that 'r we'll be callin ya "Dr. Jaegerjaques."" Shiro snickered.

"What the hell makes you think I would take his name, asshole?" Ichigo snarled, oblivious to the fact that he didn't object to marrying Grimmjow; a grave mistake.

"So, you're saying that you'd make him Grimmjow Kurosaki instead?" Rukia asked, feigning innocence and turning Shiro's snickering into full blown laughing, sending Shinji into a fit as well.

"I didn't say that! I meant I wouldn't marry him at all!" Ichigo flushed a dark red, flipping everyone in the room the bird.

"Ya didn't exactly say that Ichi- maybe subconsciously-" The blonde started, but was abruptly cut off.

 _Knock, knock, knock, knock, knock!_

The redhead's heart skipped a beat, not like he'd ever admit to something so girly, and he got up, blocking out the murmurs of encouragement coming from his friends and brother. His anxiety was gradually building with every step he took, raking through his insides and making him feel queasy. By the time he reached the door, he was nearly a quivering mess.

'Get it together. Just some guy. Just some guy here to hang out.' the orangette steeled himself, yanking the door open without hesitation and nearly choking on his own spit as soon as he got a good look at his 'date.'

The blue haired man was dressed casually, but that didn't change the fact that he looked hot in what he was wearing. He stood with one arm resting on the doorway one behind his back, vintage looking biker jacket wide open and exposing a broad chest clad in a midnight blue shirt. Lower, Grimmjow's crossed legs were covered in dark-washed jeans with twin chains at the hip, feeding into worn, black combat boots. With a conical silver stud in each ear lobe, plus the three tiny silver hoops adorning the shell of his ear, his punk look was complete. And like icing on the cake, he smelled like mint, leather, and tobacco, mixed with something sweet and pleasant.

'Damn, if I _were_ gay...' Ichigo thought, finally looking up at the man's smirking face, which was topped with unruly sky blue hair. He had one perfect blue eyebrow arched, as if he was asking: "Like what you see?"

"Hey Ichi, I'm sorry I'm late." His low voice crooned, oceanic eyes raking over the lithe frame of the orange haired man, who had finally snapped out his trance and checked his watch, confirming that Grimmjow was, in fact, 15 minutes late.

"How the hell did you manage to be late?" Ichigo asked incredulously, cocking his head to the side and frowning up at the taller man. He wasn't even upset, just in awe. Grimmjow lived on the other side of him, and the bastard still managed to be late for the 'date' he planned.

"Don't be too upset, I had to get mah date a present." He pulled his hidden hand from behind his back with one of his mega-watt grins, revealing an orange rose.

Cautiously, Ichigo took the flower, holding it like a ticking time bomb and frowning when he finally got the correlation of the color to his hair. "Thanks, smartass." The irritated man said, glowering up at the taller one.

"Ichigo! That's no way to thank someone for a gift!" He heard the words come from somewhere behind him, deflating when he recognized the shrill tone of Rukia's voice; the woman herself near-forgotten up until that point.

She sauntered up, briefly meeting Grimmjow's questioning gaze before plucking the rose out of her friend's hand with a very disappointed glare. "What a nice rose; one that he didn't have to go out of his way to get for your ungrateful ass. Tell him you're sorry." She demanded, fearlessly meeting angry bronze irises with her violet.

With a long sigh, Ichigo closed his orbs tight, nodding slowly. "Sorry, asshole. Ow! Rukia, quit it! Alright, sorry, I'm sorry!" Never did he imagine a situation would arise in which he'd _want_ to leave and go on this 'date,' but with Rukia kicking the shit out of him and demanding he be nice to the jackass, he'd discovered one.

"I forgive ya babe, don't worry about it," Said jackass widened his grin, standing up straight and going in to steal a kiss from the irate redhead. Ichigo read the movement and turned his head at the last minute, only to feel a set of surprisingly soft lips meet his cheek, the spot burning pleasantly afterwards.

"I keep telling you; I'm straight!" He scowled, fighting a losing battle with the blush that was creeping past his collar and onto his face, then rubbing at this cheek childishly. _It was fucking tingly and weird, and the feeling wouldn't go away._

"Actions speak louder than words, Ichi!" Grimmjow sing-songed, stepping out of the doorway and into the hall, gesturing for the other young man to follow.

"One second, let me put my shoes on and deal with a few things." He called back, shaking his head in defeat at the blue haired man's antics, then turning to face the "few things" still sitting in his tiny apartment.

"Out. All of you." he eyed the familiar faces, their expressions ranging from smirking to excited.

"Fine, but lemme just tell ya that ya're one lucky bastard." Shiro walked out first, stuffing his feet into the grey Timberland boots situated at the door, and then slapping his brother on the back making the latter frown and grumble. "I can' believe ya get the chance to hit that, and ya're here, squanderin' it." The pale man shook his head mock-sadly, hissing when his brother clipped his arm with a well aimed punch.

"If things don' go well, hook me up, ne?" The albino cackled, rubbing his throbbing bicep and sending a wink at the smirking blunette on his way out. "Take care a' King, but if he ain't interested, I am, Big Blue." With that, he left, leaving a dumbfounded Grimmjow in his wake.

"Behave yourself, Ichigo." Rukia strapped on her tiny Mary Jane heels, setting the rose on a table near the door and click clacking out, chin held high and hoity-toity (as Shiro would say) expression firmly in place, complete with her usual wicked smirk.

"Be safe! Don' do shit I'd do!" The Shinji giggled, slipping his feet into stylish brown loafers. He then proceeded to skip into the waiting elevator, held open by Shiro (who was still openly leering at the orangette's date).

"Karera wa subete no bakadesu _ **(1)**_." Ichigo muttered under his breath, watching the elevator at the end of the hall close immediately after they were all piled in.

"Huh. Weird friends ya've got there, Ichi." His 'date' cocked his head to the side in a way that a lesser man would've called cute. Right, in the midst of all the stupidity, he'd totally forgotten about the blunette, cause of said stupidity.

The orangette shrugged and nodded, shoving his feet into his sneakers. "Yes, they're idiots, but they mean well. The pale jackass was actually my twin brother though, so I'm stuck with him." He replied, drawing a short laugh from the bigger man and fighting the smile that wanted to appear in response to the warm sound.

They made their way to the elevator at a leisurely pace, a heavy silence falling upon them, and during that time, Ichigo's uneasy feelings took root yet again. Was he supposed to say something? Initiate conversation? Was the blue haired man content with the silence between them? Again, he's been on dates before, but none with anyone like the man walking beside him, and that frustrated him to no end. _He was beginning to feel like a chick again, and it bothered him immensely_.

"So Ichi," Grimmjow started, thankfully taking the lead. "Let's say we play a game."

That statement alone is enough to make any sane person nervous. It's a line straight out of horror films; the villain usually taking his captives into his lair or something similar, suggesting the victims "play a game" with him, said game usually resulting in pain and death. So Ichigo had a right to be suspicious. "What kind of game?" He asked hesitantly.

"I'm not gonna kill ya, so don' look at me like I'm an axe murderer- I'm talkin' a simple game a' truth." The taller man stated, stabbing the 'down' button by the elevator doors with a long finger.

"Truth?" The orangette arched a brow.

"That's right, truth. I'm gonna ask ya some questions, and all ya gotta do is tell the truth, vice versa."

Ichigo vaguely recalled his sisters playing the same game with a group of friends, the party giggling and laughing over the answers they'd gotten out of their peers. It was a simple concept, and if his sisters played it, he could keep it innocent enough, so he shrugged. It was a child's game anyway, he couldn't refuse lest he bruise his pride. Plus, the odd request coming from this tall, buff, sexy (objectively speaking) man was enough to spark the orangette's interest.

"Go ahead, ask me something." He said, looking up at the dimly lit numbers running across the top of the elevator doors. The brightest one was two, which told the young man that the contraption had a whole _eleven floors_ to go before reaching his.

'Shiro's such an ass.' He thought, scowling as the image of his brother letting the elevator door close on him assaulted his thoughts.

"How old are ya, babe?" The blue haired man asked, winning smile in place.

"Uh..." It finally occurred to the redhead that they knew little to nothing about the one another, apart for names, apartment numbers, and sexual orientations. Actually, scratch that last bit, because Grimmjow didn't seem to understand that he _didn't swing that way_. "Don't call me babe...twenty-two. What about you?" He replied rather awkwardly.

For the first time since he met the man, Ichigo got to see a frown marring his handsome face. That alone had him biting back a chuckle. When he got his answer though, he couldn't fight the burst of laughter that spilled from his lips, mostly because it was said with such disdain and resentment.

"I'm nineteen." The blunette averted his eyes, looking anywhere but at the smirking redhead.

"Nineteen huh? Don't you think you are a little young to be out this late with a stranger?" Ichigo teased cheekily, delighting in the blush that appeared across the blue haired man's cheekbones. As far as he was concerned, it was that bastard's turn to blush.

"Fuck off Ichi, ya're real lucky I like ya. Where ya from?" The larger man asked quickly, intent on changing the subject to avoid more teasing.

"I'm from Japan, youngster." Ichigo replied, his smirk growing when the frown on Grimmjow's face turned into a full blown scowl.

"Playin' with fire there." The younger man warned with a groan.

"Yes, yes. Playing with fire, I might get burned. Where are we going?" The redhead rolled his eyes and dropped the previous subject, looking up at his companion, who was suddenly smiling slyly- a look that's typically never good (and he had reason to believe that a playful smile is especially dangerous on Grimmjow).

"It's a secret- nah, don' give me that look, 's not a lie, it's just a secret." He responded, smile still in place, the expression reminding the redhead vaguely of a playful kitten.

"That is a stupid secret, but I'll let you have it. Ask away."

What? Fighting with the man was useless; the older man was discovering that fact quickly.

"Do you find me attractive, Ichi?" The blunette asked bluntly, his previous grin dissolving into the usual smirk when his companion blanched.

"And that is a stupid question. Pass." He knew it was cowardly, but he felt like if he said Grimmjow looked hot, the younger man would take it as some admission of his sexuality, so he didn't want to answer. Even worse, he might believe that he was the one to turn the redhead, which would be a huge boost for the blue haired bastard's ego; a boost that he didn't need in the least.

"Ah ah ahh, that ain't an answer! Ya know ya can' do that."

'I should've known, the fucking hypocrite.' Ichigo shook his head.

"Fine. I realize that you are an attractive person, but I'm not attracted to...you..." The twenty-two year old trailed off at the snort that came from the teen's lips, frowning.

"Bullshit. I ain't sayin' that everyone's attracted to me, I'm jus' sayin' you are." Grimmjow said with a shrug and a neutral expression. Tch, what a jarhead.

"I'm actually impressed. I couldn't say something like that with a straight face." The blunette was about to reply, but their conversation was interrupted by a mischievous tenor ringing out from behind the pair.

"Hello Ichigo and friend, what brings you two together so suspiciously late at night?"

Ichigo's knee-jerk reaction was to tense up and scowl when he heard his boss behind him, voice slightly muffled due to the stupid fan he has a tendency to fling up in front of his face. The young man looked up and nearly moaned in frustration.

The elevator was on only floor 11.

"Kami wa watashi o tasukete. _ **(2)**_ " The young man muttered, earning a curious glance from his blue haired companion.

"Can't you leave him alone today? He doesn't look like he wants to be bothered, Kisuke."

Luckily, he _did_ get a break after all. Relaxing and turning around, he smiled good naturedly at the man standing behind his boss and attempting to get the man to leave the orangette alone.

Jushiro Ukitake was a pale, white-haired older man with big doe eyes and a sweet disposition, kindness virtually rolling off of him in waves. While he doesn't take shit from anyone and is said to be pretty tough when provoked, he usually never appears to be upset; despite suffering from an illness that causes him sporadic chest pain.

"Hello Jushiro, how are you doing?" Ichigo asked, still smiling and pointedly ignoring the man in front of him, earning a chuckle from the white haired man.

"I'm hurt! How could you talk around me like that, after I stall my journey home to speak to my favorite employee?! Maybe I should just talk to your handsome friend, huh?" Urahara whined, turning to the dumbstruck blue haired man next to the orangette.

Kisuke Urahara was nearly the polar opposite of Jushiro, always mischievous and getting into some sort of trouble. Sure, he had his serious moments, but those were so few and far between they were nonexistent. While a kind person at heart and brilliant to boot, he always seems to take some sick pleasure in messing with anyone and everyone he comes in contact with, Ichigo being one of his favorite targets from the time he hired the young man as a cashier/storeroom manager at his little candy shop to the present. What Jushiro sees in him, the redhead will never know.

"Don't you have anything better to do than antagonize me?" The orangette growled at the shifty blonde, just waiting for the...

 _Ding!_

Tears of relief nearly pricked at his bronze eyes as the man hooked his arm into his blue haired companion's, dragging him into the contraption with haste. "Have a nice night, Jushiro! Urahara." As soon as they were inside, the young man stabbed the 'Door Close' button near violently and held it, rigging the thing so it would pass all of the floors in between his and the ground (a trick he learned from his brother), then slumping against the wall. He'd have to thank Kami for that at some point.

"What..?" A rich baritone questioned, the owner leaning on the back wall of the elevator next to his 'date,' and slinging a muscled arm around his shoulders, making the smaller man jump. He was startled, but after that near disaster, he was just too tired to protest the action, allowing himself to be pulled to the warm, leather clad torso. If he didn't think about the implications of the action, it actually felt quite nice...

"The blonde was Kisuke Urahara, my boss. The other man was named Jushiro Ukitake, his partner." Ichigo sighed, trying to subtly rest his head on the strong, sweet-mint-tobacco-leather scented chest behind him. When he finally got there, he felt the larger man laugh lowly, the vibrations making the other inwardly shiver. The orangette scowled, trying to scrape up what remained of his pride and tape it back together again.

"If I weren't so damned tired, I would kick your ass for this." It was essentially cuddling, and Ichigo really didn't cuddle with anyone, _let alone infuriating jarhead men_. The thought made him very uncomfortable, but he allowed it for now.

"Whatever ya say, Ichi." Jarhead said with a roll of his sapphire eyes, giving the man at his side a tight squeeze and waiting to reach the bottom floor. "So tell me, when did you arrive on the shores of our great States..."

By the time they'd gotten in the car (which was a beautiful, royal blue BMW, fittingly named Pantera as it purred and growled smoothly like the animal itself [even though the redhead gave the younger man lots of shit for naming it]), Ichigo'd warmed up to the blue haired man, laughing boisterously at his jokes and even letting the usual scowl melt off of his lips in favor of a small smile. He was even beginning to thoroughly enjoy his time with Grimmjow, although it was strictly platonic between them on his end.

"You have got to tell me where you're taking me eventually; I'm really starting to think that you're a axe murderer. I mean, it wouldn't be surprising, considering you look insane." Ichigo chuckled at the mock-hurt look on Grimmjow's face, leaning back into the smooth leather seat under him and listening to the alluring purr of the expensive machinery as they rode to their destination. His bronze eyes even slipped shut contentedly as he waited for a reply. While it was disturbing that he was so calm in the presence of the cocky jackass, it was welcome, for it felt too nice to shove aside; unlike 45 minutes ago, where he was jumpy and agitated.

"I don' have ta tell ya shit, Ichi, specially not when ya take up that tone with me. Sides, we're almost here!" The teen said cheerfully, maneuvering the vehicle through a sharp bend in the road.

"Don't you owe me some explanation, seeing as I'm your 'date?'" The orangette asked, making sure to put finger quotes around the word date, and slitting his eyes open to watch the expressions play over the (objectively) handsome face of his companion.

"Ah, that's where ya're wrong babe- I don' owe ya shit either. I'm doin' all a' this outta the kindness of mah heart, which kinda leads me to believe that _ya_ owe _me_. Aaand, we're here."

The redhead had decided the "babe" thing was a losing battle long ago, so he wasn't even phased at that point. He just got out with a chuckle and sigh, shaking his head and looking up at the grand neon sign on the building in front of them.

"What the hell is 21 and up laser tag?" He asked, arching a neatly trimmed eyebrow at the man next to him, chocolate gaze questioning.

"Well my dear Ichi," Grimmjow grinned, walking up to the door and yanking it open and holding it for his 'date.' The latter blushed and threw a half hearted punch, but let it go. "This place's a laser tag arena first and foremost, but it's attached to a bar, hence the 21 and up bit."

Even though Ichigo assumed the blunette had a plan, he just couldn't miss the golden teasing opportunity that the teen had opened himself up for. "So...how do you expect to get in, youngster? Bribe the management?"

"Ha-fucking-ha. They won't card me if ya shut up about it." The blunette frowned and poked his tongue out, lightly thumping the back of a bright head of orange hair as they approached the front desk. The place was bathed in multicolored lights that danced around, creating strange patterns on the black walls, black floor, and excited people clad in gear, waiting for entry into the arena. It was really too dark to see much of anything, but Ichigo could tell behind them sat a wide, fully stocked bar, filled to the brim with vodka to wine, and everything in between. There was a man behind the counter, long, wavy brown hair in a pony tail, leaning on the glossy surface and chatting up a blushing woman, apparently the bartender.

"Here ya go," the low voice of his 'date' snapped him out of his trance, the owner thrusting a few things into his hands. Eyeing the vest and gun that he held, a disturbing thought struck him, and he cringed, realizing that he just unknowingly broke one of his 'non-date' rules.

"You paid for me." The redhead stated blandly, glaring at the heavy laser tag gear. If Grimmjow paid for him, it was a date, not a 'date.' A step further, it'd make him feel like a chick, and he just wouldn't stand for that shit.

"Ya're my date, I invited ya out. I'm payin' for shit this time around, whether ya like it 'r not." The redhead stiffened, but let it go (with every intention of paying him back before the night was up, because he wasn't a chick, damn it!).

"Fine." With a roll of his bronze eyes, he snapped the vest on just as an alarm sounded, signaling the end of the last game and the start of theirs.

"Whatcha waitin' for Ichi? Old bones need time to settle?" The blunette joked, already strapped in and entering the arena, an indignant man hot on his heels.

"Old bones carry more experience, don't be so sure of yourself. I'm not going easy on you, child." Ichigo caught himself flashing a rare grin at Grimmjow, feeling the corners of his almond shaped eyes crinkling with the expression. He also caught a genuine smile on the face of the bigger man before they disappeared into the arena, each with a promise to defeat the other.

The ring was drenched in black-light, tall walls and mirrors places around at random intervals and making it damn near impossible to spot anyone unless you've been here many times before. The orangette had a sneaking suspicion that the man that accompanied him frequented the place, so he made it a point to disguise himself as well as he could, darting between walls and mirrors. He wasn't about to lose to that bastard, not now not ever, even at something as stupid as laser tag. He scurried over to a black wall to hide, the loud grunge music that flooded the place rumbling in his chest and fueling his excitement.

Picking down people one by one and rarely getting hit, the orange head thanked his martial arts background for his stealth and speed, even if he hadn't come across his target of choice yet. He slid round a corner and shot some poor bastard in the stomach, the lithe man chuckling lightly under his breath, admitting to himself that he was having fun. Despite being on a 'date' with a fucking jarhead. The jarhead wasn't half bad actually; the name just happened to stick like glue.

The ginger found himself pressed up against a wall at one point, eyes narrowed and senses on high alert, breathing heavily from the thrill of tracking people around the large space. His bronze orbs swerved around his surrounding area, widening briefly when he caught a flash of flat out _glowing blue hair_ reflected in a mirror. The sight was actually ridiculous enough to make him laugh out loud and give up his hiding spot.

"I got'cha now babe," The familiar voice called from the left of him, filled with mirth and slightly breathy from the exertion of running around so much.

"I would like to see you try, Big Blue Glow-stick!" Ichigo grinned, watching out for a surprise attack and dodging Grimmjow's weak attempt, dancing behind the man and pinning him between the shoulder blades. With an eerily Shiro-like cackle in response to the agitated curse that fell from the other's lips, the ginger slid into place behind a wall, preparing to pin his companion as many times as he could. It wasn't very hard with the new, hilarious knowledge that the man _actually glowed under black-lights_.

He suddenly felt two quick vibrations, signaling that he'd been shot twice, so quickly that the realization baffled him. He didn't exactly play laser tag often, but when he did, he was pretty damn good at it. So he was left wondering who the hell tagged him twice so easily, orange brows furrowing into a scowl. Turning, he scoped the area, stalking around the large space with far more seriousness then the situation called for.

Moving quickly and counting on the blaring music to cover his footsteps, he stalked the person who shot him, nailing her a few times before she disappeared.

'What the hell?' He thought, absentmindedly sneaking by Grimmjow again and catching him in the abdomen, giggling (in a manly way) at the shocked expression on the blue haired man's face. Even while he was focused on the Glow-stick, he was watching out for the tiny frame weaving its way through the obstacles. The orangette frowned when he saw the small figure hiding behind others that were drunk, clumsy, or just not paying attention. 'What a shit sport she is.' He thought, catching the woman in her chest.

The game quickly became a showdown between the two, both of them tagging each other over and over again up until the ending buzzer sounded. With a shake of the head, the orange haired man made his way to the front of the arena slowly, trying to escape the queasy feeling that came over him. He couldn't place it, but the little woman gave him the creeps for some reason, almost like there was malicious intent behind his shots. Or something. When he thought about it, it was ridiculous to feel malicious intent behind a shot in a game of laser tag, but he couldn't help it.

He finally made it out, pulled out of his thoughts when he approached a pouting blue haired man standing in the midst of a small crowd, cerulean eyes trained on a flat screen.

"What the hell, how the hell did ya do that?" Bronze orbs flicked up to the screen, groaning and blushing when he saw the name Grimmjow had entered in for him, not even registering his rank.

" _Ichi-babe?_ " Ichigo questioned, mortified. "Didn't I tell you to stop calling me that?" the redhead asked, hiding his glowing face in his hands.

"Ya, but I didn't listen, remember? If ya don't like it that much, we could switch places." The blunette chuckled, prying his embarrassed 'date's' hands off of his face and tilting the smaller male's head back up to the scoreboard. He slung an arm around the ginger's shoulder, reminding said ginger of the action in the elevator. Mind you, he would've thrown the leather clad arm off _this time_ , had he not been distracted by the sight in front of him.

He saw that he was first ranked player with the least receiving hits (twelve), tied with some person named EtherealBeauty. With a snort, he eyed the name about nine spaces under them: GrimmTheKing, with a considerable amount of hits (twenty-seven) sitting beside his rank.

"GrimmTheKing? You could not think up any names that were...I don't know...not stupid? And I'm not sure if the King is supposed to be ranked ten out of 14 players." Ichigo chuckled, momentarily forgetting about his embarrassment, when a small, androgynous person sauntered up to Grimmjow and cut off any smart remark he might've had lined up. It finally hit Ichigo; that was the person who he was facing off with in the arena; the vicious woman with the wicked shot.

"My my, what do we have here? Why is my boyfriend cuddled up to another man?" He asked, his smooth alto tone calm, but threatening all the same.

* * *

 _ **I have a good feeling that ya guys know where this is going, but I have a few twists in store, so we'll see where this goes in the next chappy (and maybe I'll throw in a little lemony goodness as an apology for the cliffhanger ;p) ~**_

 _ **I know this was a long one compared to the others, but I just couldn't find a good stopping point until I**_ **absolutely had to end** _ **this bit. I mean, I know I said they'd be longer, but I felt like this was totally ridiculous. So you have a cliffy as a result of my poor planning. Sorry :(**_

 _ **I love Jushiro and Urahara. I just do. That's my reasoning for putting them in the chapter *Shrugs***_

 _ **We've got Japanese in this one, so I'll translate it for ya:**_

 _ **(1)**_ _Karera wa subete no bakadesu. - They're all idiots._

 _ **(2)**_ _Kami wa watashi o tasukete. - God help me._

 _ **Thanks for the support! And if ya like this story so far, ya should fave/follow (I can't make ya, but if ya want...). Oh, and I'd love to read your opinions too! Bad for my ego, but good for my heart and writing mojo. Seriously, don't be afraid to tear me apart to make me better. I also apologize for the many..many errors that I probably didn't catch. ^-^;**_

 _ **One last thing- I don't own bleach. I mean, it'd be cool if I did, because GrimmIchi would happen. I don't though. I also don't own the artwork I used. If it's yours and you don't like me using it, I'll take it down immediately. I used a song named Dani California for Ichi's ringer. It's a RHCP song, not mine either.**_

 _ **Hopefully I'll see ya in the next chappy!**_

 _ **Love,**_

 _ **TheSextaEspada**_


	4. Chapter 4

_**\- Mini lemon at the end -**_

* * *

 _"My my, what do we have here? Why is my boyfriend cuddled up to another man?"_

"You're a man?" Ichigo blurted out, cocking his head to the side. He'd been wondering about that ever since he saw the (apparent) man in the arena, and he couldn't stop himself from asking. He parted his lips to apologize immediately, flushing and chuckling nervously in the face of the awkward silence that followed his casual statement. _Fuck, he hadn't meant to be rude, but the 'man' was pretty androgynous_.

"Fuck. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to offend you or anything…" He rambled on, watching as the strange man narrow his lilac eyes into slits. Yeah, he'd dug himself a tidy little grave with that one.

"I am a man, yes. Now, I asked a question, you fucking ingrate. _What are you doing touching what is mine?"_ The stranger snapped, pinning him under a harsh glare.

Ichigo finally realized what he'd said in the first place and turned towards Grimmjow, who'd frozen up beside him, looking blankly at his feet after retracting his arm immediately. Tch, what a help. He might as well have been twiddling his thumbs. The orange haired man scowled, looking at the tiny ravenette in front of him. For some reason, he wanted to ruin the day of the strange little man, and since his 'date' wasn't responding to any external stimuli, he thought it would be okay.

"Well, I did not know that he had a boyfriend. When he'd invited me on this date, I'd assumed he was single, and he hadn't told me otherwise." Ichigo said, feigning confusion and fighting the urge to smirk at the small man. He was turning a dangerous shade of red, borderline purple, and was downright sneering at Ichigo, who'd made it his business to ruin the poor guy's day. Kami was on his side, it seemed. What a fun night.

Continuing, he decided to slap the icing on the cake. Che. Pompous asshole deserved it as far as he was concerned. No one called Ichigo Kurosaki a name of any sort and walked away without a scar, mental, or physical. "I was having fun too. I'm sorry, but I'm going to have to ask you to leave if it is okay with Grimm here. I really want to spend _some more time with him._ " The orangette smiled shyly, averting his eyes and forcing a blush to his freckled cheeks. Inwardly giggling childishly, he cautiously took a look at his 'date' and had to chuckle minutely at the wide eyed look and blush he got in return.

'That's cute…' The orange haired man thought absently, which should have set off all kinds of alarm bells in his head in and of itself, but he was too focused on the indignant cry of the man in front of him to give a fuck about it at the moment.

"I'm sorry, but what in the hell do you mean by that? He's mine, that should be fairly obvious by now, and if anyone is going to be spending some alone time with him it will be me. This hopeless disappointment knows that as well as you should, orange haired brat." The brat in question bristled like someone'd struck him, mind bringing him back to all of the hair-color based teasing he was forced to endure back home, and he couldn't hold back a sharp, venomous laugh this time. What's worse is, when he'd called Grimmjow a 'hopeless disappointment,' Ichigo'd caught a fleeting look of hurt on the man's face. Like he truly believed that about himself. Huh. Looked like the ginger would have to stop toying with the kid and drop any pretense of kindness.

"Listen, you haughty little shit," Not even bothering to revel in the wide eyed look he got in response, he continued on. "You don't have an ounce of control over me, nor do you have any control over the idiot standing at my side." Ignoring the choked noise coming from Grimmjow, he plowed through, on a roll now. "Idiot he may be, he can do whatever he pleases, as he's an adult, not your child. Now I don't know the first thing about your relationship, but I can still tell you that you do not own him, nor have the right to treat him like trash, and you sure as hell cannot say shit like that to me and get away with it. I tried to be nice to you, but you don't know how to quit while you're ahead, obviously. Now do me a favor and get the hell out of here, before I have to kick your _pathetic little ass_ , _o_ _rokana yarō_ _ **(1)**_." The young man finished his quiet tirade with a dangerous smirk. Although a little baffled at the intensity of his rant ( _he_ didn't even think he was that pissed off at the little brat), he was pleased with the end result all the same.

The baka growled - after a quick second of recovery - stomping off and flipping Ichigo the bird as he slammed his palm against the glass of the door with enough force to make the frame shudder, nearly tripping over himself in his eagerness to leave. With a cackle, the orange head watched, along with the few people that still milled about. It suddenly struck him that no one but Grimmjow, the strange man (or so he said), and him knew what just went down, and he shook his head _. It was glorious sight in his opinion. Hell, not to toot his own horn, but he pretty much gave the kid a verbal beat down._

His thoughts were getting borderline cocky when he felt that large arm drape across his shoulders and pull him close, enveloping him in warmth. "'M buyin' ya a drink, knight in shinin' armor. 'M even gonna let the 'idiot' thing go too." Ichigo looked up, just to be blinded by the mile-wide grin of his companion, bright white teeth proudly on display. The smaller man scowled and looked away, cheeks aflame.

"You are an idiot. I just told the truth; he's an infuriating little prick that doesn't have the right to trample over everyone. He needed to hear it. Plus, he had the nerve to insult my hair..." The young man muttered, unclipping his gear, handing it to the guy at the front desk, and praying to Kami that Grimmjow didn't notice his fierce blush. Which was too much to ask for, apparently.

"Ya're so cute when ya do that, ya know."

Ichigo shoved the blue haired man off of him with a growl. "I'm not fucking cute." The young man scoffed up at the taller one, to who his chagrin, was laughing up a storm, even while handing in his gear and gun.

"Yes ya are." He said, deep voice laced with amusement.

Ichigo didn't really know what happened. One minute, he was looking up at Grimmjow, watching that unreasonably handsome face split into to a breathtaking grin, and in the next few seconds? He felt an unmistakable pressure on his lips, hot and feather light, but still aggressive as all hell. He was stunned, bronze eyes wide and unblinking. Then it got worse.

 _Because_ _he fucking liked it_.

Yes, Kurosaki Ichigo, straight as an arrow _Kurosaki Ichigo_ was being kissed by a man, and a step further- he liked it. He could at least admit to himself that he liked the heat emanating from the blue haired man's lips, caressing his own and stroking an inner fire that he didn't even know existed inside of him. With bated breath, he let himself enjoy the feeling for half a second, let the multi-colored spotlights glow brighter than before- let the music wash over him and relax him. Grimmjow's soft lips were drugging as they slid against his, and –although he didn't move or kiss back– he let himself lose control and ride his blue-haired-man induced high.

 _I've been working on my timing…_

 _Insecurity beside me…_

 _But you tasted so inviting…_

 _Should have tried to get to know you…_

AWOLNATION seemed to be playing Jailbreak just for him, and the timing was so perfect that he had to let himself pull the man closer. As soon as he moved though, he snapped out of his trance, pushing Grimmjow away and growling like a wild animal.

"What the fuck? I'm still straight! This is no more than an agreement. I do not want to…" Ichigo stopped his rant when he realized he wanted to kiss the blue haired man again, simply because it felt good, and nothing had felt that good to him since the last time he'd held Rukia's delicate body in his arms. The blue haired man's expression was caught somewhere between annoyed, confused, and downright pissed. Shaking his head, he continued on, though lowering his voice a little, because people were starting to give him curious stares as they waited for things to be reset for the next round. _He was so absorbed in this fiasco, he didn't even notice that the people that they'd played with had filtered out and swapped with another eager group._

"Look, Grimmjow, I don't want to kiss you. I don't want you to touch me in more than a friendly way, don't want to touch you in more than a friendly way. I'm okay with… _hanging out with you_ , but I do not want anything more. Is that clear enough? Can you just fucking respect that? Honestly, you're making me question if I even want anything to do with you." It was sort of a pussy move, considering he DID in fact like the kiss. The comparison of Grimmjow to Rukia was enough to have him tucking his dick between his legs and running for the hills though, not wanting to experience that kind of hurt again. It was dangerous, and while it was fun to play with fire- he didn't like to get burned. Plus, he was straight last time he checked. He didn't need to be swapping spit with guys, no matter who they were.

A dark look passed over the bigger man's features, and it was suddenly obvious how much Ichigo's less than truthful words had affected him. The older man almost wished he could take them back once he saw his companion's face, but the tiny spark of regret was nothing compared to the feeling he got when the man murmured something that sounded suspiciously like "make up your fucking mind, Ichigo," abruptly turning and striding to the bar.

He felt like a girl thinking it, but he knew he was giving Grimmjow mixed signals. He regretted it more than he should have, now that he thought about it. He'd just assumed that the blunette invited him out to mess with him and maybe get a quick fuck and the satisfaction of thinking he'd turned Ichigo bisexual out of the night. But if that was all he wanted, why did he react like that?

Heaving a defeated sigh, Ichigo knew he had to try to rectify the situation. If he didn't, his conscience wouldn't leave him alone. Grimmjow wasn't a bad guy all in all once he dropped the smarmy attitude that made him seem like a jarheaded fool. Plus, if he left things like that between them, the car ride back would be sort of awkward. But that would require him to admit he liked the kiss, and admit that he liked the man- not in that way, but admit that he liked spending time with him at the very least.

The redhead scowled. He was no pussy, and he could be an adult and tell _this one man_ how he felt _._ It wasn't a huge deal- it was as simple as walking over to the younger man and explaining himself. The prospect became even simpler seeing as they were at a bar, and after he got some liquid courage, it would be much easier to admit his mistake. Mustering up the courage he needed, he headed towards the small, near empty bar in the corner of the room. He wasn't a teenage girl; he was a grown man. He could handle this one basic task.

He took a seat next to a sulking Grimmjow- who was stabbing at some amber colored drink in a tall glass with a straw, and frowned. The orangette shook the guilty feeling off and waved the bartender - who looked like he was chatting up a flirty strawberry blonde woman with a huge bust line on the other end of the bar - over to them before he said a word. He genuinely felt bad about interrupting, but he needed a drink. The brown haired man in a pink, floral kimono walked over, a kasa tied around his neck and resting against his back.

"What can I get for you?" The brunette smiled, seemingly unbothered about being cock-blocked. Ichigo gave him a small smile in return, noticing the twinge of a Japanese accent in his voice. The kimono and kasa should've been dead giveaways in and of themselves, honestly.

"Sake, if you have it." He took a chance and answered in his native tongue, earning himself a questioning look from Grimmjow (who didn't look like he'd forgiven the older man just yet, but was still curious nonetheless) and a grin from the bartender.

"No problem. I see that you're Japanese as well?" The brunette answered in the same language, grabbing a bottle filled with clear liquid from one of the many shelves behind him and pouring it into a small, American style glass.

"I was born and raised there, yes. I moved to the states for university a few years ago, but the little town Karakura in Osaka will always be my home. Thank you." He picked up the glass and took a long swig from it, nodding to the man in front of him. "What would your name be? It would feel rude to refer to you as bartender."

"That's nice. I've lived in Tokyo for most of my life, but moved here for business. I own a bar downtown, but I work here as a favor to an old friend of mine sometimes. My name would be Kyoraku Shunsui by the way. And yours?" Shunsui answered good naturedly, grabbing a cloth from underneath the bar and wiping it down absentmindedly, the black granite top glistening like new after each pass.

"Kurosaki Ichigo. What's your bar called- I'd love to check it out sometime. And I am sorry that I interrupted your conversation earlier by the way. She looks pretty interested." Ichigo smirked, nodding at the attractive older woman he was talking to, who took a sip of her drink and winked when she noticed the action.

Shunsui chuckled and shook his head, grey eyes dancing in mirth. "My little establishment is called _The Rose-Colored Path_ if you want to drop by and grab a drink. And don't worry about Ran. I'm a married man. I just like to flirt with the ladies when I get a chance." He said, (still in Japanese mind you) grinning at the woman to punctuate his statement, and shaking his head when she swooned.

"I give up. Ya can't speak in a different language for that long and not expect me ta get curious." The seemingly uninterested blunette at Ichigo's side mumbled suddenly, his striking eyes averted to the other side of the room. The older man took a deep breath, followed by an even deeper gulp of sake. He hadn't wanted to face Grimmjow just yet, and on some level he was stalling - even though he really did like talking to Shunsui, and would probably visit _The Rose-Colored Path_. He forced a small smile to his face, and looked up at the questioning Bartender. "Can you give us a minute? I need to talk to my friend for a while." The student said, reverting to English so Grimmjow didn't think he was hiding anything from him.

"No problem," The brunette replied in English, refilling the redhead's near empty glass and murmuring that it was on him, then sauntering over to the patiently waiting blond bombshell- Ran.

"Whatcha want to say ta me? Thought ya didn't want nothin' to do with me?" Ichigo flinched at the cold tone and at his own cold words, grabbing his drink and swishing it around in the elegant, short glass. Not meeting the young man's eyes, he steeled his resolve. "Look Grimmjow, I- I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking, and I said something stupid."

The blunette sighed and finally turned to look at at his older companion. "'S not your fault. I shouldn't 'ave kissed you like that. I'm not a complete jackass like ya think. I know yer straight. When I invited ya out here, it wasn't because I wanted to fuck you or somethin' like that. It was because I wanted ta piss ya off. When ya came over poundin' on my door, I was thinkin' ya were an uptight asshole, and I wanted to stoke the fire. It's fun to mess with ya. I mean, I didn't expect this to be… Ya know, I didn't expect to get along with ya. That's why what ya said bothered me so much."

Ichigo near-choked on his drink. He wasn't surprised by the first part (well he WAS surprised about the sex thing), but he was feeling sort of the same about the second. He liked this guy a lot, and he could see himself becoming good friends with the blunette. But he was confused about the last part. The orange-haired man opened his mouth to ask, but Grimmjow beat him to it.

"Because," He continued, seemingly reading Ichigo's mind. "I was havin' fun, ya know? Even though there's no chance, I was kinda feeling like this was a real date. And then ya told me that ya might not want anything to do with me, and this was just an agreement to ya… I don't know. It was insulting, to say the least. Was my kiss that bad, babe?" The young man joked half-heartedly, snorting and sipping at his drink. Training his bright and observing catlike eyes to Ichigo's face, he patiently waited for a response.

The redhead frowned and looked down. He'd promised himself he'd tell the truth, and not pussy out. He wished Shinji was here like the first time he had to face Grimmjow, but then realized that the blond would just flirt with the blunette, and he felt his frown deepen. He didn't need to see more of that. He'd already had to listen to what he'd assumed were his best friend's screams bounce and echo off of the walls of his room. In the middle of the night _._ And now that he knew 6E better, he especially didn't want to hear it. It was even weirder, and made him even more uneasy about the whole thing (if possible).

Releasing a shaky sigh, he pulled his mind back to the present. The booze was making his mind wander. ' _Or, it could also be the fact that you feel like a complete and total jackass and just don't want to deal with it_.' His inner voce nagged him. It pissed him off to no end. He was afraid to face Grimmjow back at home, he was afraid to face him for the date, and he was afraid to face this man now. Very few people were so damn intimidating to him, and he wasn't used to it at all. So he decided to finish his drink and spit out his feelings, fear be damned. He was a man. He could do it. "Hottoke. _ **(2)**_ " The ginger muttered.

"I don't just owe you an apology for saying something stupid. I owe you an apology for lying to you. I don't feel like this is an agreement anymore. I consider you a friend, and of course I want something to do with you. We aren't lovers or anything, but I've been having a great time as well. Right up to the point where I fucked things up. Can you forgive me?" He made a face and met his date's eyes, nowhere close to happy about the actual action of apologizing, but meaning every word of it. It was annoying as hell for him to admit when he was wrong, but he was a mature adult. Not a little kid, even though some would say he was pouting like one. _He wasn't though. He definitely was not pouting._

There was a split second in which Grimmjow read his expression, and then the bigger man's bright, blue eyes brightened to their normal catlike state. He cracked his mile-wide megawatt grin, complete with glinting canines and all. The surge of happiness that he got from seeing the man cheer up was strange to the redhead, albeit relieving. "What's that face for, huh? Anyone ever tell ya you'll give yourself wrinkles, old man? Don't make a big deal of it, yeah? I forgave ya five minutes ago." Ichigo scowled with the new knowledge that he could've saved himself all of that worry if Grimmjow'd said that five minutes ago. Under the surface though, he was immensely relieved that he was forgiven. But he wouldn't admit that at gunpoint.

"Whatever, _kiddo._ I was just trying to save your feelings. And then you have the nerve to talk about my face. Ever looked in a mirror?" Ichigo fired back, rubbing the thin skin and muscle between his almond shaped eyes, the action reminiscent of a dig licking a wound. Many people had told him he'd get wrinkles. He didn't even object to it anymore, because two little lines between his eyebrows had already appeared. He wasn't in denial, but that didn't mean it wasn't a sore spot.

"Yup, and ya know I'm good lookin'. While yer being truthful, ya could admit thatcha' attracted ta me, yeah?" the blunette smirked, raising an eyebrow. Ichigo shook his head and felt his lips pulling into a smile. Now that he was starting to feel the buzz of the drink he'd had, he could admit that he was a little attracted to Grimmjow. He did like the kiss, didn't he? So he would admit it. But he wouldn't give the jarhead the satisfaction of knowing, so he'd only admit it to himself.

"You've got a pretty big ego, don't you?" He muttered to himself, grabbing his glass of sake and frowning when he realized it was empty. Not good. Ichigo waved Shunsui over again, who was unsurprisingly flirting with another woman, as Ran seemed to have left. The bartender grinned and winked at the young woman before walking over. "What can I get you, Ichigo?" He asked him in their native tongue.

"Another sake please? And refill my friend's glass as well, if you remember what he had." Ichigo answered in the same language, smirking at the blue haired man's annoyed look. Shunsui laughed and grabbed the bottle of sake, filling up the redhead's glass. After he'd finished with that, he poured several different drinks into a tumbler over ice, shaking it and pouring the contents into Grimmjow's empty glass.

"One sake, and one Long Island iced tea. May I ask you something that I forgot to ask earlier though?" Shunsui smiled innocently at the ginger man and leaned against the bar, asking his question in Japanese. Ichigo had a sinking feeling about what it was going to be, now that he really thought about it. Most people that he came across that knew some Japanese asked. Plus, he never heard the end of it in his home country. He'd forgotten about it though, because no one really spoke the language in America.

"Yes," he groaned in defeat, nearly literally hanging his head. _Which was a mistake, apparently_.

"What's wrong babe?" Grimmjow asked, narrowing his eyes at the chuckling bartender.

Shunsui smiled at Grimmjow, converting to English and speaking before Ichigo could brush off the concern. "I was just about to ask your friend about his unusual name. Nothing harmful, I promise." The friend in question groaned, anticipating the question that would soon come from his blue haired companion. "What about yer name, Ichi?"

Ichigo'd be damned if he let the bartender tell him. It WAS his name, even if he didn't like the way a lot of people interpreted it. Manning up and coming to terms with the teasing that was sure to come from the blunette, he sighed heavily. "My name has a couple meanings. When it's written in Japanese kanji, it clearly translates to one true guardian, which is actually why I was named Ichigo. But verbally, it's most commonly interpreted as something else. I'm pretty sure he's asking about the second translation." The redhead muttered, taking a sip of his drink and narrowing whiskey colored eyes his eyes at Shunsui's grey ones. The man was snickering softly, trying and failing to hide the childish action.

"Well, aren't ya gonna tell me what it means?" Ichigo really, really didn't want to, but he knew Grimmjow well enough, meaning he knew the man would never drop it if he didn't get an answer. And he felt like Shunsui would probably just tell him anyway. "It means Strawberry." He mumbled reluctantly, glaring at the bar-top. He cursed his loving, but idiotic father for the name, and wondered why his kind, smart mother hadn't protested.

Grimmjow and Shunsui broke out in giggles as expected, the latter still laughing as he was waved over to the other side of the bar and excused himself to start working again. Serves him right. _He was having too much fun making fun of one of his patrons anyway._ The surly expression he wore didn't fade one little bit though, as the blunette at his side was still cackling. He was sorely tempted to shut the man up with his fists, as he was kind of inebriated, but Grimmjow literally beat him to the punch.

"Aw, Berry. 'S cute." His companion drawled, abruptly dragging his stool closer (which thankfully didn't make noise, due to the flat, hard carpet that covered all of the floors there). Leaning in, the younger man got closer than he needed to, invading his metaphorical bubble and making that leather, mint, and now booze smell wash over him. "Don't be embarrassed about your name, Ichigo. I love strawberries." And then Grimmjow did the unexpected per usual, dragging his tongue around the shell of his ear and nipping at the piercing in his lobe. He then pulled back and finished off the dregs of his drink like nothing had transpired.

"Gahhugh!" Ichigo yelped as soon as it happened, his skin instantly flaming and red as he looked around to make sure no one was watching. Thankfully, no one noticed, which is what he thought before he saw Shunsui send a smirk in his direction. He would've said something, but he was too preoccupied with the strange feeling that laced through his body as soon as he felt the hot breath on his ear, and the fact that the simple action that followed had made his dick twitch in his pants. He pushed his inner conflict down and decided to deal with it later, sending an accusatory glower at Grimmjow. "W-what the fuck?" He stuttered helplessly.

"What?" The blunette feigned innocence, though his smirk was all telling. The ginger was so shocked that he played into it. "You just licked my ear! And it means _one true guardian, jackass._ " The older man exclaimed as quietly as he could manage while still making his point. Rubbing the residual spit off of his ear, the action brought his mind back to earlier that night when Grimmjow kissed his cheek. He was tipsy enough to realize that he'd liked it, but the words wouldn't leave his mouth unless he had another sake after this one. He made a mental note that he wasn't allowed to have one more drink, lest he let his self control go altogether.

"Whatcha' gon' do about it, Berry?" Ichigo gulped in fear, ignoring the way the young man had dismissed his protest. Maybe he should've stopped at one drink, he realized belatedly, the blush getting darker as the unwanted dirty thoughts rampaged through his brain. Suddenly, he knew _exactly what he wanted to do about it._ It still made him immensely uncomfortable to confront those thoughts though. He was a straight man, for Kami's sake. He'd always been straight. But he'd be damned if he didn't want to see the blue haired jackass flounder for a little bit, making it happen in such a way that could be interpreted kind of innocently.

He sat in silence for a while, before finally deciding to lean forward like he was about to whisper a secret to the young blunette. One could feel the shock radiating off of his companion for the night when the ginger student licked a quick, trailing line from his angled jaw to his high cheekbone. Quickly pulling his pink tongue back into his mouth, the redhead smirked when he saw the tint on the kid's cheeks and neck, his own finally fading. _Tch. Serves him right._

Grimmjow growled and pressed his open palms against the cool bar top. "I'm tryin' to keep my hands to myself, babe. Ya don't want to see me when I stop tryin'." The med student was shocked by the fact that the blunette had apparently been "trying." His hands had been all over the older man all evening, and there was no way that spelled trying. _Ichigo suspected that he wasn't trying at all, not one bit._ But he got what thee teen had meant by his statement, and he suddenly felt the heat from before come back. "Hey- let's continue our game of truth!" The ginger blurted to change the subject, the blush on his neck darkening when he heard the bigger man chuckle.

"Sure, Ichi. You start." The redhead sighed in relief, glad that the man had agreed to his strange request. He'd been meaning to ask the man one question in particular, but he decided against it at the last minute. Ichigo didn't really want to know if his best friend had been in 6E. He just went with the second thing that popped up in his head: "What do you do? Besides make strange deals to lure men into your apartment?" He was less curious about that one, but he still wondered. How the in hell had he afforded that car? Rich mommy and daddy?

Grimmjow chuckled and took a second of consideration, tipping his head back and forth, as if thinking about his answer. Usually, Ichigo would've made a crack at how he didn't know the blue haired man could think- but just this once, he decided to give the young man time to form an answer. He was tired, okay? He didn't feel like teasing. _It had nothing to do with the fact that deep down inside, he found the gesture very cute. Because he didn't. Not one bit._

"I work in construction, under my pops' company. He hired me when I was fifteen. Made me save up every penny I had for everything I got. I decided to pour 'ma savings into that car and furnishing for 'ma place, because it don't matter where ya live, just matters how it looks. Anyway, I finished high school and one year a' business college, but decided ta say fuck it, because I was makin' good enough money as a construction worker. I don't need a lot of fancy shit, so there wasn't a point." Unwittingly answering a lot more of the questions the orangette was thinking about asking, he grinned, showing off his feline like canines. 'He looks more like a panther than the car _._ 'Ichigo thought absently. The blue haired man looked at his older companion, seemingly trying to figure out what to ask. Hopefully settling on something innocent, he spoke up. "Whaddo YA do, babe?" The blunette drawled, throwing his question back at him.

The older man shook his head and groaned. Just thinking about Urahara gave him a headache. "I told you that batshit crazy man was my boss, yeah?" At the nod he got, he sighed. "I work part time at Urahara's Candy Shop, which is exactly what it sounds like. He's a pain in the ass to work for, but he's a good man. I walked in and we had a conversation about me looking for a job; I wasn't even looking for one _there_. He hired me on the spot and pays me pretty well; I mange his storeroom from home, and I'm his cashier when I'm there. And here I am, three years later. You already know I'm a full time med student, but I got here on a full ride scholarship, and I sort of have to hide the fact that I have a job."

Grimmjow showcased one of his infamous smirks, puffing out his chest in a show of faux pride. "Good. I like ma' men hardworkin' and educated." Ichigo snorted dryly, barreling into another question instead of entertaining the blue haired man's statement. "Got any talents that I should know about?"

As soon as he spoke, the smirk developed into a full blown, cocky grin, bright, feline eyes flashing in mirth. The ginger should have _known_ _by now._ It pissed him off that he didn't expect the _most definitely dirty_ answer that Grimmjow was about to spout off. He scowled, seemingly for the millionth time. The blunette might actually drive him to wave Shunsui over again, if he didn't know that drinking any more would probably tempt him to _participate_ in the young man's antics _._ He was dumb when he was drunk."Construction worker by day, artist by night." The scowl dropped off of the student's face. That was surprisingly easy. "Plus, I have some other _talents._ If ya ever want me to show 'em to ya, ya have ma' number." Never-mind. Baka.

"So- you're an artist?" Pointedly ignoring the suggestive comment that the bigger man had made, he continued on. His bronze orbs focused on the blue haired baka beside him, nearly pleading him to drop the act and continue on a normal, adult conversation. Shockingly, he did.

The obnoxious expression faded into something more genuine, and he suddenly started prattling on about art, much to Ichigo's utter shock. "Yeah. Whenever I get tha' chance, I practice. It's kinda a dream I have, to become better at it and eventually have some more people see my shit, ya know? I've been workin' on makin' my realism better- put some emotion in what I'm tryin' to draw. I don't wanna paint flat faces, cause damn, 's boring as hell. In grade school, I used 'ta just trace…" Ichigo followed his happy expression as he talked – still listening of course – and unwittingly let a soft smile onto his face. This, he could actually admit was a little cute. Grimmjow would probably be able to talk for days about his art, and then get up to realize that he'd spent _days_ doing so. The orange head knew he'd have to stop him eventually, but it was funny. Plus, he enjoyed the passion radiating from the man in waves. _Why was he a construction worker? He could be a world renowned artist; the way he's talking about it…_

* * *

They sat there talking until the bar closed at 12:30, and they were the only patrons left. The redheaded man had fought Grimmjow tooth and nail to get the small tab, finally wining that battle, but not winning the 'date' war. Shunsui had waved them off with a knowing grin, giving Ichigo a warm goodbye in their first language, inviting him to the bar again, and sharing more giggles with the blunette about his name. "Anata wa ryōhō no kodesu." He'd muttered sullenly, forgetting that the bartender could understand his words. He'd quickly translated for blunette, who'd smacked him on the back of his orange head for calling them stupid children, "even if we weren't supposed 'ta understand it." Ichigo had a feeling that he'd be forced to translate all of the time now, so he might stop insulting the young man under his breath. _Or just start insulting the man in plain English to bridge the language barrier more easily._

They climbed into Pantera, neither of them being intoxicated enough to need a taxi (the ginger hadn't broken his two drink rule, though he was sorely tempted to). After near pleading – Ichigo would never outright beg for anything – he found himself settled into the smooth, cool leather of the driver's seat. He shot a grin at Grimmjow, who was looking downright sickly at the prospect of letting someone else drive his beloved car. The med student clearly enjoyed his current position. Not only did he have a golden opportunity to scare the living shit out of the blunette, he got to drive this beautiful piece of machinery back home. He'd memorized the way when they were headed to the joint (in case his companion turned out to be a serial killer) and could probably drive circles around anyone he'd ever met or had yet to meet. He was good to go. _But the fear of the younger man made him eager to pretend that he wasn't._

"Ready?" The orangette asked, tempted to grin as he snapped his seat belt on and made the necessary adjustments he'd needed to make to account for the slight height difference between them. Grimmjow blanched and nodded, ready to snatch back his keys at a moment's notice. "Whenever ya are, berry." He said blandly. Ichigo started to feel a little bad, but he wouldn't let that rob him of a shining opportunity to make Grimmjow squirm a little. He twisted the key in the ignition, the car starting up and purring as if it were its namesake.

"Okay. Hold on tight," The med student backed out of the space slowly, pumping the brakes a little to make the car jerk and growl in protest. He finally let himself crack a small grin at the horrified look on Grimmjow's admittedly handsome face. "Are you out of your damned mind?" The blue haired man choked out, grabbing the dashboard in front of him and curling his long fingers around the edge of it.

"Yes." Ichigo responded faux calmly, glee filled chocolate orbs taking in the larger man's form. His own azure eyes were narrowed, promised nothing but pain if something happened to his baby. Ignoring the unspoken threat, he pulled out of the parking lot shakily and noisily, using every ounce of his willpower and strength not to laugh at the grousing and threats coming from the passenger side of the car. "You better be able to drive better than this, Ichi. I swear to you I'll pick you up and throw you in the trunk if you can't." He growled, as they had finally made it to the exit.

Seemed his fun had run out. _Oh well. He'd have just a little more first._ The streets were completely barren, as it was twelve fifty-seven, almost one. So yeah, he'd have one more chance to fuck with the teen. "I suggest you sit back. Seriously, that's dangerous." Ichigo said, voice soft and lulling. It was clear that Grimmjow didn't trust his driving ability much, but he trusted the older man enough to listen. He sat back, keeping his electric eyes on the road and taking a deep breath. "Go on." He said, looking a little constipated to see what other torture the redhead could – and most definitely would – put him and his baby through next.

The student cackled, glad that his date had listened to his instructions. With a small smirk, he revved the engine for show once, before pulling out of the lot as quickly as he could. He was careful not to burn rubber and strip the tires of the beautiful car as he made a very skilled, smooth turn off of the property. He was a little mean, but he wasn't a monster. _Then he floored it down the highway._ Because his passenger was totally unprepared for the sudden speed, his well muscled body (not like Ichigo noticed such things) slammed back into the seat with a 'thud', drawing a very un-manly yelp out of his mouth. Ichigo was extremely glad that the teen had listened when he told him to sit back. _His little joke wouldn't have been worth it if Grimmjow had actually gotten hurt. He'd feel too bad._

But he didn't get hurt, so the ginger started outright _howling_ with laughter for the first time that night, and at his own joke at that, clutching his abdomen with his free hand. "Ya think that that was funny, ya orange haired little shit?!" The man beside him growled, sitting back up with some effort as Ichigo was still pushing one hundred. "Slow the fuck down!" Ignoring the insult, he slowed down to a little under the legal speed limit before they reached the first stoplight on their journey back home. He didn't need to get a ticket, though the look on Grimmjow's face had been priceless. He chanced another glance at his companion, only to be met by rage that was clearly over exaggerated and partly fake. The young man's face was flushed, his toned arms wrapped around his body protectively, and his head turned so that he could properly glower at the driver of his car through a few.

"I think that that was _hilarious."_ Ichigo's grin broadened, all of his bright white teeth shown off and glinting in the streetlights. The genuinely cheerful expression actually seemed to calm the blunette's rage a little, the larger man simmering down to a mildly annoyed state. "Don' fuckin do that again. Ya made me think that ya were gonna kill us both and destroy my baby with that reckless drivin' a yours." He suddenly crooned and stroked the dashboard. "It's okay baby, daddy's got ya…" He murmured, looking to be half serious and half joking. Ichigo groaned and chuckled as he stopped at the light, the euphoria he was feeling prompting him to look over do something kind of dumb; something that he would have never have done if he was in his right mind. He flirted with the bigger man without really thinking about it first.

"Aw, I'm going to get jealous if you don't start petting me like that…" He said, internally scolding himself as soon as he let it slip. Oh Kami. Why did adrenaline make him such a baka? It's not like he wanted something from the man.

Did he?

When he really stopped to think about it, he realized he DID want something. He wanted another kiss. He wanted a longer kiss. He kind of wanted to see where the night would take him, yes, even in that sense. He would really have to think about that in depth. One minute, he was tangled up in a stupid ass deal with a jarheaded, arrogant moron, the next, he wanted long kisses from the man and a little more, maybe. That was bad enough in and of itself, but he'd also never hear the end of it from anyone because of the "I'm not fucking gay" fits he'd thrown.

"I'd pet you as much as ya wanted, Ichi," Grimmjow said seductively after a moment's hesitation (probably out of pure shock), smirking at his own words. "But I'd need your permission." The blunette purred, feline eyes prowling and at half mast. Ichigo felt like the young man had set him on fire again, swallowing roughly and tilting his head to look back at the road. He accelerated when he realized the light had turned green, realizing belatedly that he had to respond in some way to the smirking man. "Mhm..." He hummed, just to buy himself some time.

'Kami, why do I feel these things? What the hell is this man doing to me. Fucking hell…' Suddenly, he felt like he had a little devil version of himself on one shoulder, clad in red clothing and complete with horns and a long, pointed tail. ' _C'mon Ichigo…you want him, you want him.'_ The little cretin chanted, urging him to give up fighting the strange feelings that were cropping up like weeds in his mind. He groaned, resisting the strong urge to bang his head against the steering wheel. 'No I fucking don't, asshole. I'm a straight man. I don't want…'

The annoying little man stopped chanting and sat on his shoulder as he drove. _'I'm you. You can't convince me of anything, because I know what you're thinking. You're wondering what that man does to make all of his partners scream loud enough to disturb the neighbors…'_ He huffed and gripped the steering wheel tightly and with both hands, knuckles turning white. He needed a distraction, so he flicked the radio on and prayed that the blunette had it set to something interesting enough to stop him from going insane. A confused expression fell over his face when he realized that everything on the radio station was in French. He made a move to change it, but something stopped him. Singing. _Grimmjow was singing in French._ The name Jaegerjaquez was _French_.

"Voulez- vous montrer mon monde, besoin de vous montrer comment il est fait. Vous voulez vous réveiller- sachez que vous avez besoin de l'amour de quelqu'un…" The deep, gravelly voice sang perfectly to the slow, melodic guitar. The song dripped with sex, and while he wasn't fluent, he picked up on some of the words: "Need to show you how it's done...know you need the love of someone.." The orangette was sure that his mouth had dropped open in astonishment. Chancing a look at Grimmjow, he saw that the man thankfully had his eyes shut, but the wide, lazy smirk on his face made Ichigo suspect that he knew _exactly_ what the fuck he was doing. "Je veux tout avec vous…" The blue haired bastard sang, rough, enchanting voice drowining out the soft, boring one of the female vocalist. It roughly translated to: "I want it all with you."

The little demon on his shoulder was purring with want, and the redhead himself was gaping like a fish. Schooling his features into a scowl, he returned his eyes to the road before he crashed for real. This was downright ridiculous. There was no way a man could be this... He'd accepted that he was attracted to the guy, but didn't quite realize how attracted he was until that moment. "Watashi wa kuso anata o nikumimasu. _**(3)**_ " He muttered lowly, ignoring the mocking whisper of _'No you don't…'_ coming from the devil on his shoulder. He felt the teasing stare of his passenger on him as soon as he spoke. "I moved from France when I was 'bout eight. I always keep the radio on this station 'cause I like the music, and don't wanna forget the language, even though my ma and pops always spoke it in the house..." Ichigo could hear the grin in the low tenor of Grimmjow's voice.

"Mmm. I know some French." The ginger said lamely, because it was too damn hot in the car and he couldn't be bothered to say anything else. Rolling down the window, he recovered and continued. "Beautiful language…" The man beside him chuckled and leaned back again. "Oui… Tres beau, Ichigo. _**(4)**_ " His full name, said in a French accent. Ichigo had started to wonder why he was even fighting with himself. He was straight? He obviously wanted the man. People would laugh? Fuck 'em. Grimmjow was a conceited idiot? Yeah, he was. But he could deal with that, because it was only half of the time. Rukia?

He'd feel like he was betraying the young woman if anything happened between him and the blunette. But he'd essentially gotten rejected for his own cousin. And he'd never met anyone that gave him such intense feelings after her. _Until now._ So fuck that.

Fear? Fuck that too. What happens, happens. He was already in wayyy too deep.

Pride?

His pride was the only thing that really kept him away from Grimmjow. He was as stubborn as an Ox. He knew that, but didn't know if he could push past it and give into what he was feeling. Ichigo really focused on his surroundings, realizing that he'd need to make a choice, and soon. Because they were there. Pulling into the same parking spot that Pantera sat in before they left, he made his decision impulsively and quickly, like he was accustomed to doing. _'Yolo…'_ His little demon whispered before vanishing into thin air, making the ginger snort. _Or crawling back into his imagination, where he belonged, more like._

He put the car in park and twisted the key, turning off the engine and battery. "Thanks for letting me drive her." Ichigo smirked and held out the keys to the teen in the passenger side, who pouted and snatched them. "The pleasure was all _yours._ " The redhead snickered softly, watching the man get out of the vehicle. He wanted to see if…

'Oh yeah. The man has a nice ass.' He thought as Grimmjow shut the door. Leaning back in the seat, he wondered if it was right to leer. "It's for experimentation's sake," The redhead said aloud. "It's not wrong." A knock on his door broke his train of thought, making him realize that he was sitting in someone else's car and thinking. "You ever gonna get out of my car? Or should I just sign it over to ya?" The deep voice was muffled, but unmistakable. With a sigh, he popped his own door open and slid outside, the cool air making him pull his jacket around him a little tighter. Some of his joints cracked as he stretched to his full height of 5'11, and he frowned a little. _He wasn't_ that _old._

"You arite, oldster?" Grimmjow seemed to have read his mind, making Ichigo groan. Relying on his quick wit, he thought up a retort. "Better than you'll ever be, youngster." Unfortunately, it had no type of heat backing it, because he'd made the mistake of looking at the teen before he spoke. He was leaning against the flashy car, legs crossed at the ankles, holding a smoking cigarette between two long fingers. His head was turned to face Ichigo, sky blue hair in organized chaos per usual, complete with oceanic eyes crinkled at the corners by the blinding grin the man was wearing. The expression seemed to say: "Want me? Come here and get me." The taller man suddenly snorted and took a long drag of his cigarette, blowing the cancerous smoke into the dazed redhead's face. Thankfully, that broke the spell that he was under.

"Do you know how bad that'll fuck up your lungs?" He scowled and snatched the barely smoked cigarette, throwing it to the ground and stomping on it. Grimmjow started to growl something out, but abruptly halted and let his expression fall blank. But the redhead wasn't fooled. He saw the mischief in those deep blue, kaleidoscopic eyes. "You're right, babe." Suddenly, Ichigo found himself with a thick arm wrapped around his abdomen, the other around his waist. The warm, solid heat at his back ironically gave him the chills. _"It's fine. I found a new addiction a few days ago…"_ The blunette purred into his ear lowly, nipping at the black, pyramid stud in the lobe. The vibrations that came from the bigger man's chest reverberated in his, causing him to shiver and swallow down a groan.

"K-kuso baka... _**(5)**_ " Ichigo stuttered quietly, shaking the man off and dragging him into the tall building. He definitively knew what he wanted now. He _wanted_ the laughing blunette he was dragging into the graciously empty elevator, already on the ground floor. So before Grimmjow had the chance to say something dumb, he set the machine up so it would bypass any other floors between the first and thirteenth, sent a quick prayer up to Kami-sama, and pinned the shocked teen to the back wall of the elevator. Swallowing his pride as he'd had to do many times with the same man, he wrapped his arms around a corded neck, pressing his lean frame into the other man's muscular- yes, _muscular_ one. Tilting his head up and shutting his whiskey colored eyes, he did something he'd subconsciously wanted to do since day one.

He kissed the man. And it felt fucking _good._

All of his trepidation from earlier dissolved with the feeling. He sucked the man's bottom lip into his mouth, letting his blunt teeth graze it lightly, and then dragging his pink tongue across the smooth surface. His hands slid into soft blue locks, caressing and tugging. Grimmjow snapped out of his brief trance and let out a shaky breath through his straight nose, groaning ever so softly into the smaller man's mouth. Ichigo sighed in relief, glad that his sudden assault was a welcome one. He swiped his tongue across the seam of hot lips, and smirked when they parted to allow him entrance into a slightly hotter mouth. The redhead's tongue darted into the cavern, the smooth muscle sliding over the blunette's. He released a breathy moan when Grimmjow gave a him similar treatment, tar flavored tongue coming to life and slipping over his briefly.

Strong arms came to loop around his slimmer waist, pulling Ichigo tighter to a toned chest, the painfully slow, drugging, and _intense_ kiss causing something to stir inside of him. All of the blood in his body had rushed out of his head and straight into his dick, explaining the dizziness. He noticed that the teen was having a similar problem, so he tentatively ground his hips up and into the larger man's. The action drug a noise out of both of them, a noise reminiscent of a growl coming out of Grimmjow's throat, a groan coming from the smaller man's.

 _Ding!_

The elevator opened up on the thirteenth floor, and that should've snapped them out of it. But it didn't, just made them aware that they needed to change locations. They clambered out of the elevator and rushed to the ginger's apartment, Ichigo fumbling for his keys with messy, uncoordinated motions. _Fuck. He really wanted the younger man. It felt like all of the tension from the day they met was rushing back to him at light speed._

The redhead was thankful that no one was in the hallway, because Grimmjow had gotten impatient and started to give him a more intimate version of a typical pat down, presumably under the guise of looking for his keys. The only purpose served was to distract Ichigo and further increase the pressure in his boxers. Not to mention the fact that the blunette felt it necessary to murmur every dirty thing he could think of into the orangette's ear. The orangette, who was still feeling around in his jacket for _those damn keys._

"Hai!" He grinned, finally grasping the cool metal, jagged metal in a zipped, inner pocket. Grimmjow released a choked, throaty chuckle at the Japanese cheer of _"yes!"_ The man probably didn't know a word of Japanese, but Ichigo figured he'd made himself clear nonetheless.

"Damn it berry, you take too fucking long…" The larger man complained still, earning himself a muttered, "Don't like it? Do it your-damned-self." Coming from the berry himself, who jammed the key in the lock and hastily turned it, pushing the grey door open and spilling inside, along with his companion for the night, then clumsily pushed it closed. Ichigo pulled his guest straight into the bedroom, and nearly kicking open the second door. He didn't have time for so many damn _doors_. He didn't even bother to flip the lights on, the only source drifting in from the kitchen and the moon.

"Slow down baby…" Grimmjow said, but his words weren't convincing in the least. Not when he was tearing the orange haired man's shirt and jacket off with speed and vigor, he himself moving almost as fast as Ichigo. "Watch it!" The older man had yelled, hearing a stitch snap and tear in his plain, white t-shirt. "Je vais vous acheter un millier de chemises si nous faisons cela à nouveau… _**(6)**_ " The blunette had muttered, driving the ginger up the wall, even though he didn't have the mental capacity to translate.

The med student yanked the teen's leather jacket off, standing on his toes to pull it back, and the young man didn't exactly make this easy, what with him ghosting over every inch of the older one's lightly muscled, but well defined torso with rough hands. He then relieved Grimmjow of his deep blue shirt, thankful that the man had the decency to at least raise his damn arms this time. Then Ichigo did what he'd realized belatedly what he'd wanted to do since their first meeting, and ran his open palms across the man's chest, taking in the sight with glowing, bronze eyes. Any other hang-ups he'd had vanished at the sight and feel of the hot (in both ways, yeah), washboard abs beneath his hands. "Mmm…" He moaned, looking up into dark, dilated, ocean eyes.

"Don't have time for you to stare, baby…" The ground suddenly disappeared from under him before he had a chance to deny the statement, as he was thrown onto the unmade bed like he weighed nothing. Normally, he would've complained about being thrown around like a woman, but he didn't _right then. The way Grimmjow palmed his erection let him know that the young man was not under the impression that he was anything close to a woman._

The action made him moan like a _bitch_ though. Even he, the ever prideful Ichigo could admit that in that one moment, he sounded more like a strawberry than the one guardian. To even the playing field a little, he growled and used some of his martial arts training to flip a surprised Grimmjow onto his back. He left hot, open mouthed nips and kisses from the little soft spot behind the man's ear, down a writhing torso, to a quivering navel. He only paused his quick pursuit to nibble and suck on both of the teen's dark pink nipples, drawing semi-loud groans and moans from his victim. The fact that the blunette was a man didn't exactly slow him down. He'd even had the balls to leave small hickies from the spot under the cute looking 'innie' belly-button to the area in the middle of a defined 'v', right beside the treasure trail of soft blue hairs that disappeared under the waistband of black boxer briefs.

"Y-ya sure ya ain't done this before?" The younger man stuttered in between breathy moans and, yes, whimpers (the older man had no idea his companion could even _make_ such noises). Ichigo smirked, roughly dragging blunt fingernails along the bigger man's sides and delighting in the shiver that followed his action. "Just going on pure instinct...glad it's working though…" He cut the smart remark Grimmjow _was sure to make_ off with another long, bruising kiss. He rocked his hips on blunette's at a steady pace, listening to the pleasured, drawn out moans and groans they were emitting, and decided to do something a little more ballsy after a moment's hesitation.

He reached down to Grimmjow's belt buckle with one hand, whipping the long strip of leather off in record time and throwing it to the floor. His nimble fingers returned to the now exposed fly, nearly tearing it open. "Off." He muttered, rolling off of the larger man to allow him to follow the obvious order. With a snicker, the blue haired little shit obeyed, revealing black boxer briefs. Grabbing Ichigo by the belt loops as well quickly after, lifting the slim hips they wrapped around, and yanking _his_ jeans off revealing bright red ones. Without even bothering to divest him of his belt first.

The treatment was rough, and the throbbing sensation in his boxers got much worse, because apparently, he liked being _man_ handled. Muuuch more than he though he would've. "Mmm- fuck…"

The young man had him pinned again, dragging his tongue down the defined chest and abdomen beneath him, and lapping at tawny nipples quickly. Ichigo moaned and tangled his hand into unruly, bright hair, wanting more. 'Kami-sama, give me more,' he almost pleaded. _And you know how the saying goes. Ask, and you shall receive._

Grimmjow, leaned up to smirk at Ichigo, blinding white teeth on display, and darkened, cerulean eyes shining even in what little, dim light they had to work with. Then he'd pulled red boxers down and off, exposing an erection, that in Ichigo's (and a few other's) opinions, was nothing to sneeze at, protruding from neatly trimmed, orange hairs. Even the blunette's eyes had widened in shock, feeding the smirking redhead's ego a little. It was finally his turn to wordlessly say: "like what you see?"

The blue haired man muttered something that sounded suspiciously like, "sure you're Japanese?" and started stroking the length with a large, calloused hand, smearing drops of clear pre-cum over the head of it with the rough pad of a thumb. The retort that Ichigo was about to spit out (he was always annoyed with the stereotype. No, it wasn't _true._ ) died an early death, killed by a shaky hiss of pleasure. He felt like that was the best hand-job anyone could ever give. Certainly the best he'd ever received.

"T-take those off…" He grunted, gesturing to Grimmjow's straining boxers, nearly whining when the heat of the man's hand disappeared, and quickly replacing it with his own, jerking himself off. The usual thoughts that cropped up when he did so were replaced with the sight and feel and _taste_ of a certain blue eyed teen.

"Merrrde, Ichi…" The blunette cursed in his first language, sitting up and revealing his rock hard member. It was shorter than his own by a fraction of an inch, but it was slightly wider, and the sight made the ginger groan, grip his length a little harder, and pick up the pace of his strokes. The way it was twitching, and the way pre-cum was leaking from the tip…he found it surprisingly hot. He found the whole scene surprisingly hot.

Grimmjow stalked up his body and wrapped a large hand around both of their lengths, moving it with haste, as both of them had gotten downright sick of waiting. He'd braced his weight on a forearm above the ginger's head, and on a knee that was nestled between his legs, one of which the older man had loosely wrapped around one of the teen's. It was a sweaty, messy tangle of limbs, and it was damned good. Ichigo flicked his bronze eyes upwards and looked into those enchanting, deep blue ones, startled by the fact that the man was staring down at his face, observing his pleasured expressions.

The look on the young man's face was caught somewhere in between pleasure and pain, and the older man was sure that he looked the same. Their movements became untethered and jerky soon, and Ichigo felt the telltale tight heat gathering low in his belly, fighting to keep his eyes open – even though he was seeing stars. A loud moan of "Kami-sama! _K-kuso…"_ was the only verbal warning he gave before starting to cum, the wet, hot liquid spurting out onto their writhing bodies. The orgasm he had seemed to trigger Grimmjow's, the man himself coming with a loud, unstable: "Mmmm…" and sliding his eyes shut. The med student watched every bit of it with wide, appreciative eyes, the sight throwing oil on his fire, so to speak.

Both men rode out their orgasms, uncaring of the mess that they'd just made. And with that, the orangette passed out, his last thought of the night being: 'Fuck. I hope we don't both fall asleep and get stuck together…'

* * *

 _ **T** **A-DA! Ladies and gentlemen, Stranger Blues is officially off of it's long hiatus. It's like 5am, I have art class in the morning, and I've been sitting in the same spot for many an hour. It was all worth it though, 'cause I'm incredibly happy to start up this story again man. Like, ecstatic. Even though my writing style's changed a tad, I feel like it works. The actual chapter is like 10,000 plus words long, and I'm cringing like hell as I write that. I really did think that I'd only write them 6,000 or so words long, but I got fired the hell up today. As I so often say in everyday life, I got crackalackin, my dude. And yeah, I made Grimmjow French. I thought of it on the train today.**_

 _ **But enough about me.**_

 _ **Translations for you, the reader(s):**_

 _1: Orokana yarō – Stupid bastard_

 _2: Hottoke. – Fuck it._

 _3: Watashi wa kūsō anata O nikumimasu. – I fucking hate you._

 _4: Oui…Tres beau, Ichigo… – Yes…very beautiful, Ichigo… (French.)_

 _5: K-kuso baka. – F-fucking idiot._

 _6: Je vais vous acheter un millier de chemises si nous faisons cela à nouveau…–I'll buy you a thousand shirts if we do this again… (French.)_

 _ **Thank you so much if you're still with me, or if you read, reviewed, favorited, or followed. Please keep doing so 3**_

 _ **Bleach isn't mine, she rushed to slap in because she's paranoid.**_

 _ **With much, MUCH love,**_

 _ **The Sexta Espada.**_


	5. Chapter 5

**Stranger blues (Chapter 5)**

Two men laid in a queen sized bed, stacked on top of each other. The morning light filtered in from the modest, 2 x 2-foot window on the right side of the room. With a groan, the smaller redhead was gradually pulled from his rather pleasant dream – graduating college, with a masters in biochemistry – by the sensation of his body heating up way too quickly. Trying to slide his sheets off of his lithe frame, he frowned when his hand hit a soft, warm, oddly shaped lawnmower on his chest. _That was odd. He didn't even own a lawnmower; his apartment building had a groundskeeper._

 _Wait…_

He really started to wake up then, slowly coming to the conclusion that if he had a running lawnmower on his chest, he'd be dead. Plus, lawnmowers aren't man shaped and warm. Did one of his friends come over and pass out? Cracking his bleary, whiskey colored eyes open, he choked on his own spit. All of last night's events had come rushing back to him at that instant, as a disheveled field of blue had come into his field of vision. He was so damn hot because he'd been pinned beneath the loudly snoring man (presumably) all night. Suddenly he blanched, gently rolling Grimmjow over onto his back. He wanted to do two things.

 _Make sure the teen stayed asleep for as long as possible so he had a chance to sort himself out._

 _B. Make sure they weren't covered in cum._

That would be great. He didn't know how to handle waking up next to the man he'd basically sexually assaulted, let alone handle them being coated in dry jizz. It wasn't like he could just leave though. It was his own damn apartment. He carefully pulled up from the blunette, relieved that the young man had had the foresight to wipe them down at some point in the night. Ichigo then felt his features soften. The sight of the usually loud and brash teen in his bed sleeping serenely made his heart do a stupid little flutter thing. Even if the damn man sounded like a jackhammer.

"Kami…" He'd called upon god and trailed off, never getting the chance to stare at the blunette uninterrupted before then. Even after a night of playing laser tag and rolling around in the sheets, the man still looked glorious. His angled face was slack, striking eyes closed and relaxed, navy eyelashes brushing over high cheekbones. Grimmjow's cotton candy colored hair was splayed across the pillow behind him, some still resting over his peaceful face in it's organized chaos. His chiseled, tan body was halfway covered by Ichigo's white sheet, and the redhead had to keep his hands away from the rising and falling chest. He flushed when he realized that they were still bare ass naked, eyes widening as he imagined what was under that sheet. Slipping out of bed, he grabbed some clothes for himself from his drawers.

Ichigo'd expected the man to have run out on him, honestly. A guy who has a different man in his room every night would be expected to skip out on the whole morning after thing, right? And he wanted him to, right?

 _Right?_

The redhead moved as quietly as possible, slipping into the bathroom after picking up and folding their discarded, scattered garments from last night. He'd left Grimmjow's on the corner of the bed so he'd be able to find them more easily if he decided to leave. 'Maybe he'll want to stay and cuddle.' He thought with a snort, doing his business quickly. Afterwards, he brushed his teeth and took off all of his forgotten accessories, like his watch and earrings. He then took a quick shower and made sure he was clean from head to toe, getting out and donning blue boxers, a casual purple t-shirt, and grey jeans, planning to wear his classic adidas with the little ensemble. Ichigo slipped on a black, leather belt and scowled at his foggy reflection in the mirror. He didn't even know if he wanted the man to leave or stay with him, to be completely honest.

Drying off his shaggy orange hair and exiting the bathroom, the ginger decided it was about time to get some food. It was damn near 10AM and he hadn't eaten since yesterday, which was odd for him. He was going to order, but he thought it might be rude not to at least ask the blunette if he wanted something. He was nice to every girl he brought home the morning after, so why not a man? He didn't even know if Grimmjow was still there though, as he hadn't really bothered to check. _Not because he'd be a little nervous if the man was still there. No. Definitely not for that reason._

He huffed, looking for the menu to his favorite breakfast takeout place in the kitchen. It wasn't good food, but it was cheap and fast. Plus, he didn't even know how to boil water without burning it. His little sister Yuzu had done all of the cooking at home after their mother passed, and when he moved out, he'd moved to America. There was a takeout place on every corner, and he'd never had time to learn how to cook. So he didn't.

Finally finding it, he nodded to himself, ready to order some spongy eggs and overcooked bacon. He did say it wasn't great, didn't he? Ichigo crept back into his room, finding his bed empty and Grimmjow's clothes gone. Blocking out the small twinge of disappointment, he sighed in relief- he wouldn't have to deal with the awkwardness at least. The redhead flopped down in the slightly rumpled area where they'd both been lying a few minutes ago, pulling his small, glossy phone out of last night's jean pockets. Unsurprisingly, there were upwards of 40 missed calls from his friends and brother, probably all wondering why the fuck he hadn't called back at least once.

Ignoring them for now, he ordered his shitty breakfast and decided to crack out _Principals of Biochemistry,_ intent on solidifying the basics in his mind before he took Kurotsuchi's damned test. He had to be at work at 12:30, meaning he didn't have much time- but he was well overdue for some studying. Walking into his small living room, heavy textbook in hand, Ichigo sank into his shitty leather loveseat and opened the material on his lap. Right before he really got to studying anything though, his phone started blaring "Give it Away" by the Red Hot Chili Peppers, cutting through his concentration and bringing a scowl to his handsome face.

Running his hand through still-damp sunset colored hair, he jogged into his bedroom to retrieve it, recognizing the tone. He'd gotten custom ringtones for everyone, so he knew exactly who to be annoyed with before he even looked at the screen. He shouldn't have been surprised that Shinji was calling again. The others had stopped calling after a certain time, but the blonde never gave up until he got what he wanted. _At least this way, he only had to talk about it to one person. That gossipy man would tell everyone._

 _What I got, ya gotta give it to ya momma!_

 _What I got, ya gotta give it to ya poppa!_

 _What I got, ya gotta give it to ya daughta-_

 _You do a little dan-_

He cut the verse off, answering the phone that was still on laying on his bed, dangerously close to falling off of the large piece of furniture. "What, Shin?"

" _Ichi! What tha hell? How'd it go?! We were so worried boutcha! Where did he take ya? Ya bring him home? Ya get laid?!"_ The German man fired off question after question, not letting the redhead get a word in edgewise. Ichigo sighed, his annoyance dissolving as soon as he said that they were worried about him. He _had_ painted Grimmjow to be some sort of psychopathic asshole, gone out with him for the entire night, and then hadn't said anything for over 12 hours. He felt bad. He even felt bad enough to ignore the questions that were progressively getting dirtier and dirtier coming from the blonde. "Shinji!" He'd yelled into the phone, purely to stop the man from continuing on. _"What?"_

"It wasn't half bad. He wasn't half as bad as I thought he would be, I mean. He's not the idiot that I thought he was…" He sighed again, walking back into his modest front room. "If you really get to know him, he's…well, I was wrong about the oaf." At best, it was a grudging admission of guilt coming from the young man. Of course, Shinji took it as some kind of admission of love coming from his friend. Even though it was obviously pushed through gritted teeth, reluctant, and he'd used the words idiot and oaf.

" _So when are ya gonna see him again? You should take him out to dinner one day, ya know? You should do something specia–"_ The blonde prattled on, intent on hooking them up, or something like that. Which was never going to happen. Again.

"Shin, It's not like that. We went out once, and we went out once because I needed him to shut up for a little while at that. I'm not gay, I'm not interested in that man, and even if I were- this was an agreement." Ichigo muttered, his annoyance rushing back. Shinji just didn't seem to get that he wasn't suddenly going to want a happily ever after with the man, even if he didn't have a bad time. The redhead was glad that he hadn't told his friend about the fact that they'd fooled around a little afterwards. He'd never hear the end of it- but he didn't doubt that he'd slip up and tell the man a little bit later.

He let Shinji continue on about how that wasn't the right attitude to have, grabbing a twenty from his wallet and giving it to the delivery man as soon as he came. _"…you could at least give him a chance!"_ Ichigo shook his head at the empty room, untying the plastic bag and grabbing the Styrofoam packaging within it. "I don't want to give him a chance. Even if he's not a _total_ idiot, I'm still not interested." He was lying out of the ass, and he knew it. But the man on the other line had no idea, and that was the important part. Cringing at the squeak of the box, he pulled his breakfast out, promptly popping it open and starting to scarf down the contents with the provided utensils. He had to hurry, so he didn't have time to worry about his blonde friend.

" _Why were ya out with him all night then? I came by ya place!"_ Ichigo actually didn't doubt it. He was glad that they'd missed each other apparently, but he was hard up for an excuse. Heaving a sigh to buy some time, he finally thought of something, thank god. "The idiot was drunk off his ass. I took care of him last night, nothing more."

' _You took care of him, alright…'_ his inner voice teased him in a sing song voice, causing him to nearly choke on a soggy egg. Wincing, the redhead recovered and continued around a mouthful of food. "Sorry you had to come over though." It occurred to Ichigo that maybe he should get out and do more things. No one would've batted an eye if Shinji or Shiro had been the ones to stay out all night.

" _You can make it up to me if you go out with that hunk again!"_ Ichigo wished he'd never apologized. He knew the man would drag it out forever if he didn't say something. "Mmm. I need to go to work, Shin. I'll talk to you later." The redhead decided a non-committal hum was the way to go, being that he had no idea what else he should do.

" _Okay Ichi. I won't forget though, don't worry."_ It was said in such a tone that let Ichigo know that the blonde wasn't fucking around in the slightest. He wouldn't forget anytime soon. The ginger grunted, happy when the call finally ended. Getting up and throwing his takeout containers out, he popped a piece of mint gum into his mouth and shoved his feet into his shoes. He really didn't feel like talking about Grimmjow anymore today.

* * *

 _Which of course, meant that he'd have to talk about the blue haired bastard all day._

It started out innocently enough. He got to work and Jushiro was in the back, so they counted out inventory so Ichigo could order whatever they were out of. The older man had politely asked how his night was, and he'd genuinely smiled- which was apparently very unusual for him on a work day. So Mr. Ukitake had pried a little, and the only reason the redhead was okay with it was because it was Jushiro. The white haired man was one of the kindest people on the planet earth, so he didn't mind sharing a little more information with the man.

– _One Hour Ago –_

" _You look more cheerful than usual, Ichigo! I trust that everything went well for you last night?" The pale man had asked, gentle, genuine smile on his face. He sat on an overturned wooden crate that once held chocolate bars, counting lollipops and scribbling down numbers on a small pad in front of him._

 _Ichigo looked at the man from over the rows and rows of rolling metal racks that had shelves, all lined neatly with assorted candies. Inadvertently chuckling, he nodded. "Yeah. I've always thought that guy was kind of full of himself. But he really isn't that bad once you get to know him." Jushiro laughed good naturedly, continuing to count candy. "I thought the same of Kisuke when I met him."_

 _The redhead flushed. "It's not like that, Jushiro. He's a loud guy, extremely disruptive and all." Ichigo was surprised the white haired man didn't already know that, as he lived in the apartment complex. He guessed it was because he stayed with with Urahara the majority of the time. Shrugging, he continued. "I couldn't focus on school because he was keeping me up all night- but he promised to shut up for a while if…" He trailed off, as the student had noticed the end of a cane peeking through the doorway._

 _He really didn't want to continue if Urahara was going to toss in his two cents about his 'handsome friend.' So he kept his mouth shout and continued making sure that everything that needed to be re-ordered was accounted for. The last thing he wanted to do was spill about his 'date' last night to his boss- not because he disliked the man though (he had a reluctant, grudging like for the older man- Ichigo just thought that the guy was crazy). No, he had a feeling that the eccentric blonde would somehow know about what had transpired between them._

 _Confused, Jushiro looked around for the source of the young man's hesitation. His brown eyes landed on his lover, and he chuckled. "Hi Kisuke! We were just discussing Ichigo's friend from yesterday." The white haired man said cheerily. The ginger felt betrayed. Jushiro usually protected him from this, but it seemed that Kami wasn't on his side today._

" _Urahara." He greeted dryly, stepping out from behind a rack momentarily and nodding to the blonde in the green and white striped bucket hat. The man snickered, kissing a blushing Jushiro on the cheek quickly. Secretly, Ichigo thought they were quite cute together- but he'd never told a soul and never planned to._

" _Boyfriend! You must rest- I don't want you to make yourself sick! Ichigo's a hearty, strapping young man, and so am I. We can handle it!" Kisuke proclaimed. The irritated "strapping young man" grumbled, agreeing that it was best if Mr. Ukitake were to rest for a little while. He'd noticed the older man clutching his chest a little more than usual, and was worried that the dusty, stale air in the storage room was giving him trouble. "He's right, Jushiro." Ichigo muttered, not looking up from his notepad. "You should get some rest and fresh air."_

 _The white haired man had sighed, getting up slowly and with the help of Kisuke. "Okay, guys. Good luck, Ichigo." He'd said, winking at the ginger man before leaving the back room and heading toward the front. The platinum blonde had sighed, concern obvious on his face before returning to his usual jovial expression and staring at his younger employee. "So, Ichigo- what was the condition?"_

 _Feigning confusion to buy some time, the redhead cocked his head to the side, orange locks swinging over his tea colored eyes. "What do you mean by that? What condition?"_

 _Now Ichigo was an excellent liar. But Kisuke had an eerie ability to read him, and pretty much everyone else. Luckily, the older man went along with it, flinging his green and white fan in front of his smirking lips, shadowed, hazel eyes twinkling with mischief. "The deal your handsome man friend made with you." Came the muffled reply, the man (hat and clogs, as he used to refer to him) sat down in his partner's old seat. Urahara started counting, though Ichigo knew that he was still waiting for a reply._

 _Weighing his options, he eventually relented. He couldn't exactly tell his boss to fuck off- mostly because he had too much respect for the man to do anything like that. Partly because he needed money to eat. So reluctantly, the young man replied._

" _He wanted me to go on a date with him, Urahara. And I went."_

– _Present Time –_

After that, the blonde had _pried._ Not like Jushiro had pried, because he wasn't half as polite about it. He was blunt and gossipy, more like Shinji than anything. Ichigo just blamed himself for it. It's common sense that you don't give a kid any rewards or attention for bad behavior- and he knew from past experience that he same rule applied to his boss. He'd ignored that golden rule and given the man a tidbit of information vital to the story anyway though. Which just solidified the idea that more bad behavior would result in more information in Urahara's mind.

"C'mon _Ichigoooo_ , tell me. Does he make you happy?" The redhead's eye twitched at the sing-song, playful lilt, now shelving products in the front of the store. The blonde wasn't even asking the usual questions you'd expect someone to ask. No, he was asking deeper ones; ones that made him question his own feelings. He'd come to the shaky conclusion that he'd only wanted to have some fun that night- going out and fooling around with that man were just fun things to do. He didn't want to read into it too much- but his employer was making that fucking impossible.

"He's a cool guy, Urahara. He makes me happy in the way a friend would," He grunted, hanging up a few tubes of rock candy and scaring every one of their many customers away from that section with his harsh expression. He felt like an idiot, glaring at colored sugar, one eye twitching- but that was really the only way he had to express his anger at that moment. He'd have to stop by the dojo after work- before he did some actual damage to something. Or someone.

His boss chuckled, sitting on the edge of a huge display that featured oversized versions of regular candy. Ichigo found it funny, because the man looked like an oversized version of a child to him, grinning and swinging his feet like one. "That's not what I meant, _my dear employee._ Does he give you a fluttery feeling when he's near? Does he make you smile like a teenager with a crush? Does he–" The annoyed orangette had had enough, pointing a tube of bright purple crystalized candy at his boss like a sword. " _No._ He doesn't." The med student hissed, narrowing almond shaped, copper eyes.

The devil appeared on his shoulder again just then, this time looking like the one person he'd been hopelessly trying to forget all day. A tiny Grimmjow – clad in dark red clothing of course – sat on a broad shoulder, a teasing smirk on his handsome face. _"Yes I do, Ichi. Why are you denying it?"_ The man in question groaned, resisting the urge to bang his head on the nearest wall, instead, opting to run a hand through his bright hair.

"Denial isn't just a river in Egypt, Ichigo." The jovial man smirked, knocking the treat-turned-weapon out of the redhead's outstretched hand with his long, skinny cane. Huffing, the younger man went to retrieve it, willing the blue eyed demon to fall off of his shoulder as he bent down. Instead, the small man clung to his seat, not letting himself drop to the tan colored linoleum floor. _"You can't get rid of me that easy, Ichi…"_ The devil purred, laying down and lounging on his perch like a wild cat.

"If I liked him," He ignored the figment of his imagination's comment, just pushing forward. "I'd say so. I'm not any kind of pussy." He muttered the last part to himself, sliding the last tube of candy onto the rack. Just then, the bell to the front door went off, alerting them that someone had left or entered the store. Thinking nothing of it (it was usually busy), Ichigo picked up another open box. Unfortunately, he'd caught a flash of sky blue hair in his peripheral vision.

So, like the dumbass he was, he'd jumped back two feet and dropped all of the Hershey's chocolate bars on the floor beneath them- attracting the amused/pitying attention of anyone who was in the store. _The bright side of it all was, it wasn't even fucking Grimmjow._ It was a tall, surfer like guy with a dye job; pretty much a knock off version of the blue haired demon. The man looked at the flustered employee with sympathy in his green eyes, then walked off to another section, his ditsy, giggling, blonde girlfriend trailing him.

Gritting his teeth and blowing a frustrated breath out, the blushing redhead quickly picked everything he'd unceremoniously dropped, dumping it into the box. He looked up, glad that most everyone had moved on from their staring, and sent seething glares at anyone who dared to keep gawking. He'd even turned his venomous copper orbs towards his snickering boss. The demon was laughing at him too, but he couldn't glare at his shoulder- so he sent a mental middle finger to the thing, hoping that would cover it. _Oh no, kami was definitely not on his side today._

* * *

Ichigo practically ran to his car at 8 pm, waving to Jushiro and Kisuke quickly. He needed to get to the dojo. Grimmjow left his house, and it annoyed him because he thought the man was a little cowardly for it. Shinji had pried and prodded him this morning. _Plus, his boss had antagonized him all day, even after he'd made an ass out of himself with those damn candy bars._ _Who the fuck knew that blue dye jobs were so common? He'd only started noticing the dumb trend after he met-_

'No,' he thought, shoving the key into the ignition of his supercharged, matte black and purple Challenger Hellcat. He wouldn't think about that gesu yarō _**(1)**_. He'd thought about the man way too much in the past week, and he was going to stop. It made him feel stupid and out of control. He flicked on the radio in his car, pleased to hear Marilyn Manson's "Sweet Dreams" start playing through his speakers. He turned it all of the way up, screeching out of the parking lot and distracting himself by singing the lyrics at the top of his lungs.

 _Sweet dreams are made of these._

 _Who am I to disagree?_

 _Travel the world and the seven seas,_

 _Everybody's…_

It was working, thank god. The redhead was glad that the distance from the candy store and the dojo was a short one, because if he'd driven any further, he'd probably disturb someone with his ridiculously loud sound system. He pulled into the tiny parking lot, shutting the engine off and grabbing his grey gym bag. Getting out and slamming the door to his car, the young man winced at the way the frame shuddered and shook. He really needed to get some of that frustration out, because now that he'd looked back on it, he'd been abusing his baby. He'd burned rubber, jerked the keys in and out of the ignition, and started slamming her doors- things that he'd never usually do.

After murmuring a quick "sorry, baby girl" and patting the dark violet hood of the vehicle, Ichigo walked into the building and slid his shoes off before he stepped onto the mat, picking them up shortly after. Shaking his head at the disorganized mess of footwear by the door, he sighed. Some of the people who came there were just brats, even the adults.

The ginger took his sneakers and bag past the people sparring in the front to the training room, making a quick stop to change into his gi and hang his shit up. Wearing his black belt made him feel a little shamefully giddy, because he was extremely proud of that particular achievement- but that was neither here nor there. He was finally where he needed to be.

Stepping in front of a huge training dummy, he grinned. _Oh yeah. This damn thing was going to get it._ He'd gone crazy, and with that realization, he kicked the dummy in the "stomach" so hard it flew back, unwittingly attracting bewildered stares. Ichigo was so beyond pissed that he'd gone crazy because of _that_ _man_ , he'd barely noticed. The thing barely regained its balance, teetering and swaying a little before it popped back up.

Thank kami for the weights that held the piece of equipment down. The poor thing was soon the target of the ginger's rage, the man unleashing a barrage of kicks and punches at the flesh toned torso. He really did look unhinged then, because he'd started punctuating his attacks with growled, Japanese curses that he was glad most people weren't able to understand. It was a little embarrassing, but he had a lot of pent up anger that he needed to release. This just happened to be the way he expressed it.

"Aitsu fakku! _**(2)**_ "

 _Punch._

"Kuso ̄jāheddo! _**(3)**_ "

 _Kick._

He'd beat the dummy up like a caveman until 11, and he absolutely needed to leave. His limbs were exhausted, his knuckles were red, and if the equipment he'd monopolized for three hours could feel, it'd be out cold. Thankfully though, he felt 20x better than he had when he came in- the overwhelming fire in his system was now settled down to a flickering candle. Though, he ached from head to toe, at least he was emotionally sound. Sort of.

He grabbed his bag from one of the hooks on the wall, noting that the dojo was barren aside from a young janitor who'd begun mopping up the mats a little while ago, and was probably waiting for him to finish. Flushing and muttering a quick "Gomennasai _**(4)**_ " to the man, he exited quickly, having forgotten that the employee probably couldn't understand him. Luckily the man seemed to get it, nodding understandingly as the ginger man rushed out.

Once he got to the door, he'd decided that he didn't care enough to change out of his uniform, instead settling for just slipping his shoes onto his socked feet. Ichigo pushed the wooden portal open, shivering as the cool, night breeze hit his skin and made his already messy locks swing around an angular, relaxed face. He really wished he'd kept better track of time, because it tended to get damn cold at night in fall.

Staggering over to his car, he slid his aching body into the smooth, black leather seat. Thank Kami that he'd had the foresight to turn the volume down before he started the vehicle. He'd feel bad if he woke up the few people that lived around his Dojo. The young man pulled out of the space he'd haphazardly parked his baby in, starting the drive home.

As he cruised down the street, he absentmindedly sang along to the words of the song playing on the radio again- although this time it was different. His vocal chords weren't straining in anger, so he was able to utilize his secret talent properly. Ichigo's voice was smooth but grungy, hanging on to every note of 'Lithium' by Nirvana.

Yeah, he could sing. He didn't really boast about it like he did when he was a teenager, because he'd only sang to further attract the flocks of girls (and unsurprisingly, _boys_ ) that were already interested. He was a huge flirt back in the day, talking to every warm body that walked by him. He'd smoked cigarettes too, and while it was an addiction, not a tool he used to make himself more alluring- people thought it was hot. He cringed when he thought back on it; those damn things were cancerous, and he wished he'd never touched one in his life. He kicked the nasty habit before he moved, thank god.

Though mysterious, "bad boy" attitude had everyone intrigued, and his looks had become the cherry on top as soon as he hit 9th grade. _Tch. Everyone that'd had the nerve to tease him in middle school for his odd coloring had shut up real fast when they'd hit puberty._ Current Ichigo smirked at the thought of his younger days, his loose grip on the steering wheel comfortable and relaxed.

He'd complained about it until he realized that it worked in his favor. Then he played into it, sleeping with every girl he'd found attractive, drawing the rest of them in just to tease. He was a smart, funny, attractive, trilingual (French, English, and of course Japanese), black belt, guitar playing, _singer._ None of that exactly hurt his chances. Plus, he'd street raced. Which- while it wasn't the most _legal_ way to earn money, it was fun, profitable, and women loved it. He'd started with his father's old mustang at 17, sneaking out in the dead of night and losing what little he'd had in his pocket.

He'd lost a few times, yeah. He'd gotten pretty good though, racking up a good chunk of change before he moved. He'd also won his baby there. It was practically useless until he moved to the states though, as it was right side driver. But he was incredibly proud of the car, even when he'd kept it tucked away in a garage so his father wouldn't find it and complain about his boy "growing up too fast!" Or maybe, "dangerously racing down the deathly streets!"

The redhead groaned. No matter how much he reminisced, he couldn't shake the niggling thoughts of the only man he'd ever gone on a date with. If anything, it only made him realize that they might be similar in some ways. Or they would've been, had Ichigo met him before he became what he was- an overworked college student. The man practically smelled of danger, and if there was anything that the young man loved, it was danger.

'Maybe I should just say hi…' Ichigo thought, quickly cutting off his own train of thought and focusing on the road. That would make him feel like a woman. He didn't call one-night stands. He never called one-night stands after the aforementioned one-night stand occurred. They were fun, but they were only fun once.

 _Right?_

He mulled it over in his head as he pulled into the parking lot outside of his building. Ichigo grabbed his bag and keys, making sure he had everything before popping open the flat black door of his car. With a concentrated scowl, the young man started dragging his exhausted body to the entrance as quickly as he could, dreams of getting inside and relaxing pushing him forward. He was deep in thought, dead tired, and just wanted to go _home._ The young student didn't even look up until he was very literally, painfully pulled out of his stupor.

"Kuso! Do no yōna jigoku o imaimashīdesu! _**(5)**_ " Ichigo howled, grabbing his throbbing shin and hopping around in the parking lot like an idiot. That felt like it would bruise, and bruise badly. First Grimmjow, Shinji, then Kisuke, then the guy with that _shitty_ blue hair, the chocolate bars, Kisuke again- and now he'd walked right into… The redhead growled out another swear, glad that no one was awake to see him jumping around, cursing at himself, and apparently, slamming his legs straight into flashy, blue BMW's.

As soon as the ache went away, he gave the car a dry stare. "You don't even belong here. Look at you. You look so fucking out of place, Pantera. Why the hell are you in my way? Your owner is a fucking idiot." He sneered, shutting his eyes petulantly and turning away. He realized he looked a little _challenged_ ; what with the talking to a car and hopping around in his karate gi. He just couldn't find it in himself to care. He had bigger fish to fry- he was wandering to someone's car like a lost pet. Worse, that someone was a jackass that he'd only met three times in his whole life. He sighed dejectedly and opened his usually bright eyes, half expecting the man that'd been assaulting his thoughts left and right today to manifest in front of him, only because _why not? The world just wanted to piss on his parade today, so why not plop a big fat cherry right on top?_

He entered the heated building and stalked up to the elevators, punching the small button beside it a little too hard. With his luck, it'd be on the 15th floor, and he'd have to wait for ages. Or maybe it'd be broken. Ichigo realized that he was being extremely pessimistic, but he couldn't help it today. The man shifted his weight to one foot to another, happy that the damn thing was already only on the 2nd floor so he didn't have to wait for long. The twin doors slid open with a ding, revealing a couple and an older gentleman, all of which cleared out quickly. Good.

Ichigo staggered into the small room, pressing the thirteenth button and door close so no one could bother him for a while. The orangette was still thinking about his uncertain feelings for the blue haired demon, and he didn't need to be disturbed for a while. 'Grimmjow's, annoying, a bit of a dickhead, a little cowardly, selfish…but he's…so…' the young man thought, resting his back against the cold wall. 'He's so…enticing.' The redhead guessed that was the right word for it. He couldn't deny everything- the blue eyed asshole had been on his mind all day.

So…if he wanted something, he usually got it. And as averse as he was to the mere thought- he wanted Grimmjow. "I want that asshole, so I'll get that damned asshole." _Ba-dum-tiss_ , Ichigo thought dryly, cringing as he heard his own, whispered joke. No, he would just stick to med school for now- there was no way that he would make it as a comedian. Not in a million years.

The elevator signaled it's stop, and he shuffled out, taking his keys out of his pocket quickly and shoving them into the dingy lock on the corpse grey portal. He was about to enter, but something caught his eye. There was a little piece of paper taped to the big, metal, _16_ on his door. Snatching it off quickly, the ginger worried a full lip between straight teeth. He knew who it was from, even before he opened it. A snort escaped his nose as he unfolded the piece of paper with slightly trembling hands. Only serial killers wrote notes. Serial killers, and people who had no other way to communicate. They had each other's numbers- there was no need for passing _notes._

Despite how Ichigo sneered at the paper, he felt his hands clam up, especially when he read the first page. He was vaguely surprised that it wasn't written in chicken scratch, rather, elegant – albeit rushed – script. That wasn't the point though.

 _Bozo, open me_

The redhead frowned, unfolding the piece of lined paper again.

 _It's from Grimmjow- I'm…you know. I'm sorry for being such a dick and walking out on ya. It was fuckin dumb and it won't happen again, if ya wanna go out sometime. You have my number, but I'm assuming your phone is dead or some shit- or maybe you're just ignoring me. And I was thinking, how could ya fuckin ignore me? I'm me ;)_

Ichigo groaned, but reached into his bag for his phone, pulling out the rectangular object and clicking it on. Or at least trying to- because like Grimmjow'd guessed, it was dead.

 _I probably won't ever say this again. But I realized that I want you to be more than a one-night stand. So, when you get around to charging your fuckin phone, give me a call or text or something._

 _\- G. Jaegerjaquez_

Ichigo's eyes widened as he saw how Jaegerjaquez was spelled- but that was neither here nor there. He really shouldn't give the blue haired demon a call. Grimmjow was a dick, and would be until the end of time. Plus, fooling around with the man once didn't mean he was really interested in him, right? Plus, he was an arrogant idiot, all…

 _"How could ya fuckin ignore me?"_

But the problem was, how _could_ he fucking ignore the teen? Because obviously, he couldn't stop thinking about the man for the entire day. He realized he looked like an idiot again, standing in the middle of the hallway, wearing his gi, chewing on his lip, clutching a note in one fist, and leaning on his own door. He couldn't find it in himself to give a shit. Now a blind man could see that Grimmjow wanted him, if he went through the effort of writing a note and putting it up on his door. And he'd admitted to himself he wanted the blunette too. He wouldn't use a sappier word than wanted, but he'd admitted it to himself all the same. Plus, since the blunette had gone to the trouble of writing the note, Ichigo'd forgiven him for leaving like a pussy.

"Fuck. Can I ignore you, Jarhead?" He muttered, pushing open the door and dropping his bag in the entranceway, then slipping off his white and black shoes and groaning at how nice it felt. He supposed it was possible to ignore the man, but it wasn't likely. Ichigo slowly made his way towards his bedroom, putting his phone on charge first thing. He then quickly changed out of his gi and into some red basket ball shorts, in addition to a black wife beater. The orangette had dropped the note on his nightstand and promptly picked it up again once he was comfortable, absentmindedly twirling the crumpled piece of paper in his pale hands. 'Damn it,' the orangette thought, frowning down at his now bruising knuckles. He hadn't noticed that before. His friends…and possibly, Grimmjow…would give him hell for it.

Should he call the man? He would still feel like a woman, but he'd feel less like a teenage girl because the blue eyed demon had initiated it. Groaning as his tired muscles protested the action, he reached over and grabbed his phone. He would have to order takeout, seeing as his fridge was empty. A few notifications were lighting up his lock screen.

 _Missed call (5), 156-715-0000_

 _Voicemail (1), 156-715-0000_

 _Text Message (7), 156-715-0000_

He laughed, even snorting a little when he saw the insane amount of times that Grimmjow had tried to reach him. It was abundantly clear that the blunette had something to say, so no wonder he'd just bitten the proverbial bullet and taped a note to his door. He typed in his four-digit passcode, pulling up his call log, and without a second thought, he entered the man into his contacts as "Smurf Hair." Then he tapped on voicemails, playing the one under the blunette's contact name and putting it on speaker.

" _Hey baby."_ Ichigo's cheeks went slightly pink at the pet name, making him glower at the phone in his hand. Grimmjow's deep voice kept drifting through the tiny speaker though; the gritty sound of it gave him chills, even slightly warped by the phone. _"I shouldn't 'ave left like that. It was kinda a jackass thing to do. And I don't…uh…I don't wanna fuckin be a jackass to you. Merde. Call me the fuck back."_ The redhead grinned for the first time that day, because for all the big badass Grimmjow looked and clamed to be, he was obviously incredibly nervous. He couldn't tell through writing, but he could hear it in the way the teen had muttered his almost-apology into the phone.

He ordered a pizza quickly, then went on to check the seven text messages he'd received from the blue haired demon.

" _Ichi, It's Grimmjow."_

" _Answer my fuckin calls!"_

" _Damn it!"_

" _Answer."_

" _The."_

" _Damn."_

" _Phone."_

" _Ichigo!"_

From anyone else besides his kid sisters, it would've pissed him off. But he… he found it sort of endearing coming from the teenager, if he was being honest with himself. So he replied as soon as possible, tipping his head to the side and thinking before sending the message- _"Why, you miss me?"_ The redhead smirked, anticipating a biting reply from the young man. He exited out of messenger, and entered music, playing the song "Say it Ain't So" by Weezer. It was a sad song, and it contrasted his improved mood, but he loved it. His pink lips twitched upwards when he saw a message from Smurf hair pop up.

" _Bout half as much as you probably miss me."_ Ichigo chuckled dryly.

" _You can't half nothing, kiddo :)_ _."_ He sent back. No brainer.

" _Don't call me kiddo, bozo. And you know you fuckin miss me."_ The redhead could imagine the blue haired man smirking as he sent it, confident that it was the truth. It sort of was, but Ichigo wouldn't dare tell him.

Ichigo sent something back without thinking. That was the thing about Grimmjow; conversation was always fluid and never boring between them. Even if the man was kind of a jackass at times, he was easy to talk to. He sat there texting and listening to music like a teenager for a while, soon getting up and getting his pizza, right on time.

Starting to eat, he continued exchanging messages with Grimmjow. He hadn't acted like such a fuckin kid since Rukia. And when he thought of the woman just then, he was surprised that the love and longing that he felt for the woman had simmered down, once a red hot feeling, it was now…like…maybe a really bad sunburn. Yeah, it was a really bad sunburn. Uncomfortable, troubling, but it wasn't a freshly sustained hot lava burn.

Right before he went to sleep, Ichigo'd mustered up the balls to send the blue haired man a girly goodnight text: _"Goodnight, Smurf hair. (heart)"_ Because fuck it, right? He wanted to.

The almost instantaneous reply he got back was: _"Goodnight, Bozo. (heart)"_

It made him smile like a pussy. And just this once, he was cool with it. It was better than trying to destroy a training dummy, right?

* * *

 _ **Guys- thank you so fucking much for supporting my story. I can't believe how many of you accepted my hiatus with open arms and kept reading! (heart) So, this was sort of a filler. But I wanted Ichi to be sure of his own feelings before he got back to Grimmy dearest. In the last chapter, I think he was a little driven by lust. I'll make sure our sexy Sexta's in the next chapter, don't worry. And yes, Ichi was a little bit of a player back in the day.**_

 _ **I don't own bleach. I don't own my cover picture, so tell me if it's yours. It's beautiful, man. I don't even own the songs I use in the damn story. Don't sue me, because I need food money.**_

 _ **Translations for you guys:**_

 _1) Gesu yarō – Dumbass_

 _2) Aitsu fakku_ _– Fuck that bastard_

 _3) Kuso ̄jāheddo_ _– Damn jarhead_

 _4) Gomennasai – I'm sorry_

 _5) Kuso! Do no yōna jigoku o imaimashīdesu! –_ _Fuck! Goddamn it, what the hell?!_

 _ **If you like this, or if you have notes- you know. Please review, follow, favorite- whatever floats your boat (shameless begging). Really though, I love to hear opinions- and I love to see that you guys are liking it! (heart)**_

 _ **With extra love because you guys rock,**_

 _ **TheSextaEspada**_


	6. Chapter 6

Stranger Blues (Chapter 6)

Ichigo bit his lip hard enough to draw blood, his long fingers curled around the small phone in his clammy hand. He was a man on a mission. Not just _any_ mission either.

He was about to ask a guy out. On a date. To a restaurant, maybe. He thought briefly about if that was a woman thing, but he figured that the man would appreciate good food. Earlier, he'd had absolutely no idea what to do with the weird emotions he'd had on the subject of the blue haired bastard. The last thing he'd wanted to do was involve anyone but himself in this. He'd even kind of considered moving out and quitting his job so Grimmjow could never find him again, because he was a spineless jerk. Even after near constant contact with the dickhead that'd ravaged his head for way too long, he still needed someone to slap some courage into him, and he knew the three assholes who were apt to do it. Even though they were the three assholes who could possibly make his situation a lot worse.

– _Flashback –_

" _It…just…just tell me what to do!" Ichigo paced back and forth on his bare wooden floors, unbuttoning his white dress shirt as he went. He thought about Grimmjow every day since the date that was a date but at the same time definitely not a date, not that he'd ever admit it. Through all of the classes he'd had to attend and the work after, he'd been texting the blunette and daydreaming like a little girl (which earned him some stupid looks from Urahara). While the thought of initiating real life contact again still scared the absolute shit out of him, he finally knew for sure he wanted to spend more time with that jackass. It was more than want._

 _It made him sick to his stomach, and he didn't even know where to begin, so he called Shiro, Renji, and Shinji over right after his last class of the day to try to help him make sense of his emotions and sexuality. Shinji was getting food on the way, so he was going to be a little late. Which left him with his brother and redheaded friend._

 _He should've known that they'd just come over, drink his beer, and complain about him walking in front of his shitty TV. His_ own _shitty TV._

" _Just tell him how ya feel, man. He's not gonna bite. Ask him out or something. And sit down, you're blocking wrestling." Renji complained, the crimson haired, heavily tattooed man gesturing for him to move. His dickhead of a brother just grunted in agreement, putting his feet up on the tiny coffee table in the dead center of the room. Ichigo walked over to the distraction and shut it off, scowling when the two people in his room groaned. "I'll turn it on again when you two make an honest effort to help me." It made the orangette feel like a housewife to stand in front of the TV with his hands on his hips, but desperate times. He'd felt the first nut drop when he told them to haul ass over, and their only job was to help him find the other. With advice, of course._

" _Look King- I know that ya got ya panties in a bunch over that sexy piece of ass-" Ichigo made a noise, but didn't whole heartedly deny it. "But what's he gonna do? Reject ya? Fuck no. He's gonna wanna take you to bed." Renji guffawed, taking a huge sip of beer. The ginger groaned at his brother's thinking, because that's not what he wanted to hear at all. They wouldn't know the meaning of advice if it punched them in the face. "Kami, why? Why do you send all of the idiots you've created into my life?" He murmured, sitting in a leather chair and just waiting for Shinji to arrive._

" _Fuck was that?" Renji hissed, throwing the remote he held in his hand at Ichigo, who caught it deftly. "You two are useless. I just need direction…" He frowned, hanging his head and dropping the remote. "This sucks." He knew exactly where he wanted to go with this, but he had no idea how to approach a man. He could chat up any woman in the world, but he was a growing pile of nerves and anxiety when it came to someone of the same sex. Well on the bright side, at least Ichigo already knew that Grimmjow was gay- that was reassuring. That meant that if he got rejected, it'd only be based on him and his actions though._

 _He started to freak out again._

" _Look Ichigo, I'm gonna give you some actual advice," Renji said, russet eyes serious for once. About fucking time. "If you're really into this guy and he's really into you, fuck everything. Fuck your sexuality or carefully planned moves." His albino brother nodded from his spot on the couch, throwing in his two cents._

" _When you're tryin' ta hook up with someone that ya couldn't give less of a shit about, then ya gotta break out the charm. Give 'em your best, break out ya flirty: "I wanna fuck ya" attitude. If ya really care about this guy and he's not just a piece a' ass to ya, be real. He don't wanna see ya try to impress him, cause clearly he wants ya already, King." Shirosaki grinned, reaching over and mussing his older brother's already messy orange hair._

" _Dickheads…" Ichigo hated to admit it, but they had a point. With Rukia, he'd had to pull out all the stops because she was just that type of girl. She didn't want him for him, she wanted her version of him. Before that, he didn't want anyone in that way. In the_ long term. _There'd been a busty girl named Orihime that'd stuck around forever, but he'd never gotten that... Saying spark would make him feel like a young girl again, but that was the word he needed to use to describe it. "Supāku." He mumbled mockingly, scowling at the floor. He really felt like a woman._

" _What the hell are you taking about? You're losing your fucking head, aren't you?" His brother asked in Japanese, raising a white eyebrow and smirking widely at the chance to make fun of his sibling. The crimson haired man behind him looked at them questioningly, cocking his head to the left like a dog. "Fuck off. Look at Renji. Doesn't he look like an idiot?" Ichigo mirrored Shiro's expression, nodding at the older redhead. "Hey! I know what my own name sounds like! Don't talk about me in a language I can't understand, bastards!"_

 _With a laugh and a shake of his head, he ignored his friend's whining, continuing to make fun of the man in Japanese. Shiro was cackling his ass off and Ichigo was pinned to the ground by Renji by the time that Shinji started trying to break down his cheaply made door, banging on it hard enough to wake the whole town up. Not to split up the mock fight going on between the two men still on the floor, the orangette's twin got up and unlocked the portal, grabbing the large pizza from the German man instantly._

" _Thanks man." He said cheerily, popping open the box and shoving a piece in his mouth._

' _What dumbasses.' Shinji thought, sitting on the couch and changing the channel from wrestling to boxing._

– _Flashback –_

After that, everything was easier. For twenty minutes.

By the time they finally left, he was spiraling again. It was pretty thinly veiled too, because his friends and brother gave him really weird looks as they left, all patting him on the back on the way out and wishing him luck. Even _Grimmjow_ had asked him what was wrong through text, seeing that his usually semi-cheerful and mildly flirtatious messages were short and blunt. He didn't even text the teen back, and he'd been pacing for about two hours with breaks, wondering what he was meant to say to the guy. He was a _man_ damn it. He wasn't supposed to be freaking out about asking someone on a date. He wasn't supposed to-

 _Ping!_

He jumped like the coward he was, dropping his phone on the ground where a message from Smurf Hair was blinking on his screen. A fresh, new one. One that would probably contain something on the lines of "Hey, are you alive? You've been messaging me for about a week straight, even if you didn't count piss breaks. Kind of feels like you're freaking out. Maybe you're afraid to face me again." Maybe Ichigo was projecting his own fears. Probably. There was still that chance though…

He stared at the fallen device for a second, before picking it up with sweat slicked hands. He opened up his phone and then tapped on the messaging app, some tension leaving him quickly when he read the simple message.

" _Hey baby, are you okay?"_

 _Normally_ , there would be some of his confidence from the old days in his reply. _Maybe_ , there might have been a sarcastic, bitter one. A combination of the both, probably. _"Yeah, but thanks for worrying about me, shnookums."_ Or, if the weather was shitty and he was in a piss poor mood, there _might have been_ an angry or annoyed one. His reply was extraordinarily lame though, which was a clear indication that he was lying.

" _Yeah. I'm fine"_

He cringed as he sent it, knowing the guy wouldn't buy it and would assume he was hiding some massive secret. It wasn't exactly a _secret_ that he wanted the man, but he didn't really feel like broadcasting his feelingsfor a certain blue haired demon. Ichigo wasn't usually a true romantic, and it was glaringly obvious. So when he was (and it was worth noting that the last time that he was, his girlfriend left him for his married cousin- and what was so great about Kaien anyway), he didn't know how to handle it and didn't make it known until he felt like it was absolutely necessary to express his _like_ for people. So, he had a tendency shut down emotionally because he had no concept of the whole shebang, outside of Rukia and the stupid romantic comedies she'd made him watch. He was basically brain-dead when it came to that kind of stuff.

" _You seem like you're not. You didn't even stop me from callin you baby, bozo"_

He snorted dryly. 'There's no point, because you wouldn't stop no matter how hard I try. I mean, it doesn't necessarily bother me much-' He grimaced. No, it didn't. but it was weird to admit.

" _Would you stop if I asked you to?"_ The reply flew off of his fingers instantly, and he shook his head.

The reply was near instantaneous, and the speed made him crack a small smile. He'd ignored the guy for hours and yet, Grimmjow was still quick as a whip or a snap of the fingers. Even though the message itself was a little weird. Or made him feel kind of weird.

" _Would you be serious about it?"_

 _No._ "But how do I tell you that, hm?" He wondered aloud. Ichigo was surprised by how much he… A guy calling him babe usually ended up with a fist in the other's face, but since he was attracted to Grimmjow and had come to some sort of tentative decision to pursue the feeling, he didn't mind it anymore. An image of the blue haired man popped up in his mind. The image smirked characteristically, and then said: "Salut bébé. Vous savez que vous voulez me voir, ne vous?" He knew the voice and image he'd cooked up didn't do the man any kind of justice, so he could answer the question demon had 'asked' with certainty. 'Yeah, I _do_ want to see you again.'

He felt a tiny bit of confidence rush back to him when he replied. _"Probably not."_ Mostly, because who the fuck was he kidding anymore? He was sure that he could dance around in circles and act like he wasn't interested forever, but it was stupid and Grimmjow wouldn't wait an eternity for him to man up. He still didn't want to confess any feelings, but he wanted to see where it went with the guy. That meant he couldn't keep being a shy kid about this, because it wasn't good for anyone.

The response was quick and kind of annoying: _"Cool. I like calling you baby. Bozo the clown is wayyy funnier though."_ He frowned down at the screen and sat on his bed, muttering something about Grimmjow being an jarheaded idiot under his breath, and then typing a line that said just that and a little more. _"You're a jarheaded idiot, you know? How can you make fun of my hair when yours looks like cotton candy at a state fair?"_ He laughed at the image that accompanied that thought; Grimmjow, with cone shaped cotton candy on his head instead of hair. He briefly thought about the fact that he could have cotton candy anytime he wanted if that was a real thing.

" _Why do you always do this? You know you always lose; orange is a stupid color, and you know it. You even kinda look like a traffic cone sometimes, but I didn't wanna tell you on our date."_ He puffed his chest out. Orange was _not_ a stupid color. He thought back to a few days ago, to the man who'd startled him into dropping twenty pounds of chocolate on the ground. Blue was ridiculous, not to mention most times, it just looked like a shitty dye job. _"Don't try that, because the first time I saw you, I thought you'd pissed off your stylist or something."_ That was a lie though, because he'd seen the happy trail on that day and was instantly convinced that it was all natural.

He pursed his lips, fingers hovering over the send icon. No, he had more to add. _"And speaking of dates, do you want to go on another?"_ He then had a little flicker of an idea then, and he sort of loved it. Kurotsuchi had reminded him about what he'd agreed to do tomorrow- cleaning the lab. He thought it'd be really hard to do; good thing he had some help. Besides, it was Grimmjow's fault that he was in this mess in the first place, right? Ichigo smirked, erasing the "Do you want to go on another?" and replacing it with _"I kind of want to see you again. Free tomorrow?"_ Then he sent it.

Ah yeah, this was going to be interesting.

* * *

Ichigo grinned his rare grin, feeling pride swell in his chest as he led his date to his car. He was glad he didn't show the man his baby at night, because it would've been disappointing if he couldn't clearly see the slack-jawed look on Grimmjow's face. No, he was glad they were standing in broad daylight. "Yours?" The teen said dumbly, admiration filled striking eyes roving over the frame of his car.

"Yes, _mine."_ The ginger bit his lower lip, hoping it wasn't too obvious that he was talking about the man in front of him, not the Hellcat. The teen was standing tall in solid black Supras, jeans of the same color, and a tight white t-shirt, clearly showing off his muscular frame. The three silver hoops were back on the shell of the blunette's ear, and the wild mess of sky blue hair on the teen's head was mussed and gelled, a few locks falling into those perfect eyes. He felt like a kid that was just told _not_ to look directly into the sun, but was doing it anyway because it was just so bright and entrancing that he _couldn't_ look away.

Ichigo snapped his gaze to the car with some effort, stepping off of the curb and unlocking the beautiful machine. He wasn't about to be caught staring at the man, no matter how much he wanted to do it. That would just be lame. He felt the heat of Grimmjow's eyes on him as he opened the passenger side door with a teasing flourish, motioning for the teen to get in. Though, there was nothing lame about it the way he was being admired. It felt kind of nice to be ogled by this one person, and this one person alone. Besides, there was nothing special about him in his worn, galaxy t-shirt, black adidas sweats, black running shoes, and black Nike baseball cap. He wasn't looking particularly great, seeing as they were going to be cleaning up a lab, so why was the blunette staring at him like that?

"Well? Get in, _baby._ " He dismissed the train of thought easily, his excitement taking over his wonder. Ichigo Kurosaki had never, not in his wildest dreams, thought he'd be _excited_ to clean up a laboratory that was most definitely coated in hazardous slime from ceiling to floor. There he stood though, happily holding the door open to his most prized possession at 9am, watching a tired blue haired teenager roll his eyes and slide into a leather seat in front of him. Hell must've frozen over.

"You know," Grimmjow started, watching Ichigo settle into his own seat and shut the door gently. "I ain't never been on a date so early in the fuckin' morning."

The redhead smirked, plunging his key into the ignition and starting the car. He hadn't told the blunette where they were headed, but he had mentioned that it wouldn't be fun and to dress comfortably. He didn't even want to call it a date, but Grimmjow'd insisted on doing so. "I told you, it's not a date. I promise that you'll hate it. The only reason I'm taking you with me is because it's your fault that I have to do this in the first place." He pulled out of the lot smoothly, humming along to _Zombie_ by _The Cranberries._

"So, no dinner reservation then?" Grimmjow joked, and Ichigo snorted. "Actually, maybe. If you're up for it, I'll take you out for dinner and a movie afterwards. Then I'll cuddle you all night, honeybunch." His passenger guffawed, leaning forward to flip through the small stack of CDs that Ichigo had stuffed into the panel between them.

"That'd be great, babe." The teen said with a wink, still rifling through his tiny collection of discs. Since he'd come to America, he'd fallen in love with American music, and he had a bigger collection at home. He only kept music he liked to listen to while driving in his car. "Wow, you ain't as boring as I thought." Grimmjow grinned at the face he made, setting the albums back in order with a quick flick of the wrist. "The only thing that worries me is the fact that ya haven't made the transition into the twenty-first century. I know ya have a smartphone. Seen it. Ever heard of an aux cord?"

Ichigo scowled at the road, glancing at his teasing passenger. "It's a nice day to get out of my car and walk, youngster," he said dryly, speeding down the road. "I know, I know- it's hard for old timers to use technology. I can help ya if ya want." Grimmjow's grin was positively shit eating. "Do you remember when all those celebrities had their nudes leaked?" He remembered perfectly, and used the example every time he needed to to explain his physical copies of books, music, photos, and yes, even documents. "That's how weak the cloud is. I'll be damned if I put any information into some kind of _online database,_ " he spat disgustedly.

The blue haired demon had to clutch the dashboard to keep from falling over in laughter. "You know you sound completely insane though, right? Maybe I should drive." At the high risk of making himself seem older, he shook head vehemently, his scowl deepening. At least they were pulling into the parking lot of the huge science wing. "When hell freezes over, I'll let you drive my car. This isn't just any old piece of shit. It's my _baby._ "

Ichigo backed into a space carefully, punctuating his statement. "Besides. You're a teenager. I shouldn't be letting you drink _or_ drive, as a matter of fact." He grinned at the darkening look on his partner's face and put the car in park. "I can't even take you to dinner and let you order beer. Guess I'd have to ask for a kiddie men- _kuso! Kami, nantekotta i!?"_ He jumped, nearly hitting his head on the ceiling. His side smarted, and he waited for the fuckwad beside him to stop laughing angrily.

"Did you just _pinch me,_ you little shit?" He glared, watching the teen wipe tears out of his eyelashes.

"Did it feel like I pinched ya?" He grinned folding muscular arms behind his head. Ichigo nodded helplessly, rubbing his side. "Then I probably pinched ya." The redhead made a face and snapped the engine off, before he had an idea. His grimace turned into a saccharine smile as he popped open the door and slid out. "Okay, if that's the way you want to play it." He walked around the front of his beautiful vehicle before the teen had a chance to get out fully, swinging open the custom painted door. "Want to make sure you're not slamming my doors."

The redhead smirked, shutting the door lightly after his 'date' slid out, guarding his sides mistrustfully. 'Wrong place.' Without a doubt or second thought, he shot his hand forward and pinched a shapely ass- not hard enough to bruise, but just hard enough to make the teen jump a foot in the air and yelp like a dog. He tried to stop the snort that came up from his throat, but he couldn't. He let it evolve into howling laughter after that, because fuck, watching someone who was usually overflowing with charm rub his ass and blush was just as funny as one would think. He was barely aware of a few late students shuffling to their classes like zombies, and he didn't give a shit if some of then stared. Let them, because he was having far more fun than he ever thought he would today.

Meanwhile, Grimmjow was looking downright evil, glaring at him heatedly enough to melt the ice caps. "You think that was funny? You should watch your own ass from now on." Ichigo walked to the huge sliding doors of Seireitei Science lazily, now grinning from ear to ear. "Do your worst, baby." He'd imitated the man's strange New York/French accent perfectly, and was trying desperately not to start laughing like a kid again.

"You're gonna regret it, you little shit." The blunette murmured to him, tone not entirely threatening, but not entirely safe. He wasn't sure if it was the air conditioning in the building that was making his skin break out in goosebumps, or the deep, gritty voice behind him. Either way, it made him slightly uncomfortable in the best kind of way. He cringed inwardly; he was still getting used to this gay thing.

"Put your money where your mouth is." Ichigo whispered, trying to keep his words from bouncing off of the hard surfaces in the large front hall. The science building was massive, cold and spacious; polished stone walls, floors, and ceilings, all an intimidating dark grey. Carved into the arched space that made up the first corridor were beautiful, intricate designs and filigree. At the back of the Great Hall sat pristine stained glass windows, depicting the process of evolution instead of typical biblical figures. It was a pretty beautiful sight, and between snarky, flirty comments, he saw Grimmjow's large blue eyes roaming over the room in wonder.

"It's nice before you get used to it, and before you meet my asshole professor, it's beautiful. Kurotsuchi will probably be in the lab, and I apologize in advance for his. Him. Just him." He scowled, knowing Kurotsuchi would have to say something about him and Grimmjow looking "awfully close." One day he'd have to beat some sense into the man, but not before he got his degree.

"How bad can he be?" Ichigo laughed humorlessly.

"Pretty damn bad."

* * *

"Well, well, _Kurosaki._ I see you've brought a _close friend_ to help you clean!" Kurotsuchi grinned, showcasing a large set of bright, almost too white teeth. He was currently leaning into a sick looking Grimmjow's face, eyes sharp and observant. The man seemed to take pleasure in making people uncomfortable. "I'd love to study your _unnatural features._ Kurosaki refused to let me investigate the origins of his own… Either way, I couldn't possibly do an experiment, no matter how small, on a _student,_ now could I?"

That was the straw that broke the camel's back. He scowled, pulling the scared shitless teen away from his creepy professor. No one knew how the man had continued to teach at one of the most prestigious schools in the world for so long, with his track record of harassing students and teachers. Mayuri Kurotsuchi was the best there was, but he was also psychotic. Ichigo believed that psychotic should outweigh the best, but apparently admin and many of the students thought that he was only something of a harmless, "mad scientist".

"Professor! _Don't you have to explain how we should clean the lab?"_ Ichigo tried not to snarl. They were currently standing in said lab. On long black tables, beakers were overturned, spilling out many different questionable substances. Glass was shattered on the floor. Soggy papers were squishing under their feet. Goggles and yellow gloves were floating in the sinks on top of murky, sediment filled water. Even seven out of ten large, circular, fluorescent lights attached to the ceiling were flickering like they'd burn out any second. The other three had already met their fate.

Grimmjow looked horrified, and Ichigo thought it served him right. They wouldn't be in this mess if the blue haired man hadn't been such an obstinate prick. 'Teenagers.' He groaned mentally.

"Well _you are one of my top students,_ when you aren't falling asleep in my class or _disrupting it._ I only came to let you in, and to make sure it was _you_ cleaning my lab, and not that _red haired monstrosity_ who also manages to disrupt my lectures in a hall of 300 people. How, I will never figure out. Honestly Kurosaki, you have no _taste_ in the people you choose to surround yourself with. I trust that this _man- Grimmjow,_ is an upgrade. Goodbye. I will tell you how you did on my test when you've finished." With that, Kurotsuchi scuttled off, shutting the frosted glass door behind him with a click. Ichigo was vaguely reminded of a cockroach.

"What did he mean? Who was he talkin' about- the red haired monstrosity, I mean." Ichigo looked up into Grimmjow's curious face, trying not to laugh when he quickly saw the thinly veiled jealousy. 'Aw, cute.' The ginger shocked himself by thinking, almost reaching down and groping his dick just to convince himself that it was still there. He knew it was girly, but he found the idea of the teen getting jealous somewhat… _adorable._

"Why do you ask?" He played dumb, carefully picking his way through the warzone Kurotsuchi tried to pass off as a lab and to the sink. It seemed like the easiest place to start- all he really needed to do was drain it and fish the objects out, right? How hard could that possibly be?

"Because," The man seemed to have moved like a panther, creeping up behind him and wrapping long, sinewy arms around his waist. "I don't want my baby hangin' around _monstrosities._ " Ichigo stiffened, slipping a pair of black latex gloves out of a box mounted on the wall and over his hands. He didn't know how to react, but he soon realized that he was just a little nervous and flushed from hairline to collarbone. Hanging his cap on a nearby hook, he let his blush fade before he actually started getting to work. "You don't have to worry about any _monstrosities_." The ginger chuckled lightheartedly.

Grimmjow had metaphorically set his body on fire with his response, voice low and husky. "No I don't, do I? You're mine." It was said through a shark grin, no question or waver in that low voice. "Oh yeah? You sure?" Ichigo rolled his eyes, sticking his covered hands into the murky water after pulling out the soggy lab equipment on top. He pulled out a strainer that looked to be clogged with bits of hard charcoal and tinfoil, and even bits of…sand? This was entirely Kurotsuchi's mess to clean up, but he'd heard through the grapevine that he'd never touched it himself, constantly seeking out desperate students to do it for him.

Figures.

"Yeah, you're mine…" The man trailed off, leaning against a black countertop, eying him lazily. "Bet ya any amount of money that we'll be mutated by the time we leave. Ears stuck to our foreheads and shit. Like the mouse that they used ta test skin grafting." Ichigo laughed, but cringed internally at the mental image of Grimmjow with an ear stuck to his forehead. Nonetheless, he grinned, dumping the contents of the strainer into a nearby trashcan as soon as the grey water had drained. "I think you'd look better with an ear on your forehead."

"Hardy fucking ha." Grimmjow snorted, looking almost too comfortable in his place. The ginger frowned. The blunette was nice to look at, but if the teen was just going to sit on his ass and observe, the only thing that he'd do is slow everything down. He suddenly realized that he hadn't exactly told the younger man why this was his fault. "Grimm, do you know why we have to do this?" He started, feeling his temper trickle back incrementally as he finished clearing the other sinks and snapped his gloves off.

"Nope, no clue." The teen showed off his brilliant grin, picking up a dirty Erlenmeyer flask and nearly pressing a brilliant blue eye to it in order to look at the black shit inside. The basic rules of lab safety came back to Ichigo in that moment and he was off in a flash, snatching up the piece of lab equipment. There was no reason he should be so angry at Grimmjow for potentially mutilating himself, but he was. Maybe it was because the man was acting stupid, or maybe it was just because they were in this mess, but he felt his blood pressure spike. "Don't be an idiot! Don't you know you'll lose a damn eye like that? How does it feel? It doesn't burn, does it?" He reached up and jerked the blue haired man's head to the side with his unoccupied hand, looking in and around his eye. "Kuso baka." He muttered lowly.

"It's so sweet that you're worried about me baby, but I'm fine." Grimmjow teased, playful electricity sparking from catlike eyes. Ichigo stiffened, deciding to turn around and let it go. He _wasn't_ angry about the beaker. He was only pissed about having to clean the lab. The rest was _concern._ The orangette dumped the beaker into the now clear sink, along with a few others that happened to be on the countertop. "Tch. Be careful, or else you really will end up with an ear on your forehead, and I won't be able to be seen with you anymore." He said, shaking off the girly feeling of having lost control of his emotions. "As I was saying before you decided to be an idiot, this is your fault because you acted like stubborn douchebag on the day I met you.

"I fell asleep during my damn test because you kept me up all night, _the day after we spoke._ I convinced him to let me retake the test, but I've gotta do this in return. _We've. We've gotta._ " He scowled at the embarrassed look on the beautiful man's face for effect, though Grimmjow wore the expression well. His lips twitched. Ichigo wasn't even fucking sure whether or not he was still angry at all. He got a day with the blunette out of the deal. Matter of fact, they wouldn't have gone on that date(?), and he probably wouldn't have his first schoolgirl crush on a man if he'd just gotten a polite "yes" in response to his request. No. The last dregs of annoyance flittered out of him, because he didn't mind so much anymore.

Grimmjow didn't need to know that though. "Look, baby- I know I was kind of an ass when I metcha…but ya can't fuckin' blame me, can you? Some orange haired stranger shows up to my door and starts demanding shit – I can't just let that slide, can I? No matter how attractive he is, you have to defend your rights." Ichigo forced down a blush at the attractive comment and snorted, snapping his gloves back on so he could wash out the beakers. "If you're gonna stay here, you can do something other than watch me do all the work is my point. What rights, by the way?"

Thankfully Grimmjow turned, weaving his way through the glass on the ground like a panther to the heavy duty broom by the door. "The right to fuck in your own damn home." The teen said through a shit eating grin while lazily starting to pull his weight. Ichigo shook his head, turning the faucet on and grabbing the bottle of soap that Kurotsuchi had stressed he use for the beakers. The redhead thought it had to be some kind of neutralizing agent smoothie, but he wouldn't be surprised if it made all of his hair fall out or something. It was always a gamble with Mayuri, so he made sure to keep it off of his skin at all costs.

"Maybe that's a _French right._ We didn't have that shit in Japan though. If your neighbor asked for peace and quiet, you give them peace and quiet- and you were respectful about it too." He muttered, quickly getting back to cleaning.

"Hey, I respect you, babe. The real problem was; I couldn't keep them quiet." Ichigo could just sense that stupid smirk from his place by the filth coated sink. He frowned. "Awfully cocky of you."

The orangette hadn't had time to react. One moment, Grimmjow was sweeping mounds of broken glass and various other trash into a big, janitorial looking dustpan, and then the blue haired man was behind him, hands on his lean waist, and face by his neck. He'd nearly jumped a foot in the air.

"Do you really think I'm just being cocky?" The Japanese man stiffened when he felt the warm words on his neck. He nearly shoved the man away from him, but he sighed. It was time to actually push down his inner conflict over the gay thing. He was clearly into it, and he'd be damned if he didn't give it another try at the very least.

He'd made up his mind, at last. Slipping his gloves off, he let a smirk of his own appear. "It's funny; I never hear you make a sound." He fought the urge to gulp as he set up a dumb little pickup line. He meant what he was going to say in his heart of hearts, but he was nervous as fuck to actually say it, and it was as corny as pickup lines come.

"You been paying that much attention?" The blue haired man's tone was full of mirth as usual, but there was a nervous edge to it that Ichigo wasn't used to, and didn't dislike in the slightest. He felt his confidence rise a tad, so he turned around and pulled the younger man closer by his belt loop. "So what if I have? I wasn't really interested in your partners, though. I wanted to hear you moan." Ichigo took great pleasure in catching Grimmjow off guard for-fucking-once. The blush on the other man's face and neck wicked away any doubts he'd had.

Before either of them had the chance to think about his words in depth, Ichigo pulled his date in for a long, slow, smooth kiss. He couldn't think of anything but Grimmjow; the soft moans he was receiving, the being pulled closer and closer. He felt like he'd never kissed anyone who compared to the blunette in front of him, and he'd kissed a _lot_ of people. The man was receptive to his kiss in a way that filled him with equal parts pride and lust. Receptive? Yes. Submissive? Fuck, no. There was near aggressive nipping and sucking on both of their parts, some of it harsh, but none of it anything less than pleasant.

He had one of his hands behind the taller man's neck, and one was still hooked in his belt loop. That one was dangerously close to something that was getting more pronounced and _harder_ to ignore by the second. He held back a snort. It was time to stop pussyfooting around. He didn't need to be piss drunk to know that he wanted the man.

His heart jumped up into his throat, and he nearly choked as he slid his hand down to the blue haired teen's fly, popping it open in one swift motion and taking the erect member into his hand. Ichigo started to stroke, reveling in the deep, throaty moans coming from Grimmjow. He grinned at the noise and spit on his hand, continuing his earlier ministrations and eliciting more of that noise from his partner.

"What happened to the "I'm totally straight!" Ichigo? Not that I'm complaining." The ginger laughed, leading the handsome blunette to a clean wall and pushing the young man against it, starting to attack a strong neck with a set of straight, white teeth. Between nips, he muttered: "He's on a break." Not the strongest response, but it shut Grimmjow up. "He's on a break, so I'm gonna fuck you stupid. Is that okay?" A few drops of pre-cum coated his still working hand, and he felt some leak out into his own underwear.

"Y-yeah." Ichigo felt his cock twitch, and his pride swell. Making such an obnoxious jarhead stutter was making him….

"Good." In one swift motion, he yanked a tight, white shirt off of a blushing Grimmjow, using the fabric as a makeshift pair of handcuffs. 'Works just as well on guys as it does girls,' he thought wryly, leading the half naked man to the middle of the room and placing his hands on a half cleaned lab table. He didn't want there to be any pretense or foreplay this time. They could save that for later.

Embarrassingly enough, he'd let his little brother give him some…tips. He really didn't know anything about gay sex, so he'd had to call on someone that'd actually had it. Scowling, he stuffed his hand into his pocket and pulled out some lube. Some _strawberry scented_ lube, which meant the person who'd left it there knew what his name meant in Japanese. He'd found it on his nightstand when he woke up, and he shuddered at the thought of his Shirosaki both buying it, and leaving it there for him to use. It had come in handy though, he had to admit.

In one swift motion, he had his partner's pants pooled around his ankles. Gently, ever so gently, he began prepping the young man before him with lube coated fingers, reveling in the loud groans he was receiving. He briefly wondered if the doors were locked, and quickly remembered that for some reason, Kurotsuchi had had slam locks installed on all of the doors in the science wing, and only he had the keys. One could make the argument that he'd done that to keep late students out of his classrooms, and one could also make the argument that Kurotsuchi had done it so he'd know that no one could get in and see what went on inside the rooms unless he'd personally unlocked the door. There was no point in trying to understand why the man did what he did – he was batshit crazy, and that was all there was to it.

He pushed all thoughts of Kurotsuchi out of his mind, repressing another shudder. The taut, round ass in front of him pushed back against his fingers, and Grimmjow moaned louder than he'd ever heard the man moan. Which was fucking weird, considering the fact that he'd been listening to him having sex every night for nearly a month. He tried hitting the same spot over again and adding another finger, grinning when he got the same reaction, maybe even a little bit stronger. He'd found Grimmjow's prostate, he guessed. Adding another finger ever so gently, he rubbed that spot over and over and over again, until he couldn't take it anymore.

He'd never thought he'd think this, not in a million years – but he was dying to fuck the writhing man before him. He removed his fingers, and the blue haired man let out an uncharacteristic whine.

"Don't fuckin tease me, asshole." Ichigo smirked, thanking kami that there wasn't any more broken glass on the floor, because he was most definitely going to have to make the man strip down to his socks. He yanked Grimmjow up by the arm, kissing him deeply and staring into those beautiful, crystal blue eyes. He untied the man's hands, figuring he wouldn't need the binds for his new plan. "Take those off." He ordered, letting his gaze trail down a flushed, chiseled chest before he walked off, yanking a chair out of the corner of the room and plopping it down in an open area. He sat, smirking at the man who was now awkwardly kicking his shoes and pants off, blushing from head toe.

'Oh, how the tables have turned,' He thought, his dick straining against his sweats. If they were any looser, he'd be pitching a tent that boy scouts could've camped under. "Come here." His voice was laden with lust, and he didn't even try to hide it. When the taller man came over and sat in his lap, he nearly came. Grimmjow was scowling and looking away from him in embarrassment, but the young man was still hard as a fucking brick, pre-cum coating the end of his member.

Ichigo decided at that moment that he was done wasting time. He slid his pants down, Grimmjow getting the hint and standing for a second, making the motion far easier. His own member sprang free, and he himself blushed as he slathered lube onto it and nearly groaned at the contact. He wanted this to last, so hopefully he could keep it together long enough to let the younger man cum first, at least.

"Ride me." He gave his last order, before the eager blue haired man positioned himself, and started to do as told.

Ichigo hissed in pleasure, watching the beautiful man start to take him in, inch by inch, centimeter by centimeter. "Fuuuuuck." Grimmjow moaned, azure eyes screwing shut. It was the hottest thing he'd ever seen, by far. He grabbed the man's muscled side with one hand, and once he was fully seated, started stroking a proud, neglected cock with the other.

" _Fuuuuuck, Ichigo._ " He let out a moan of his own, eyes rolling back into his head at the sound of that deep voice calling his name. Grimmjow began to really ride him then, and he bit his lip hard enough that he started to taste blood. He started stroking faster, in time with the blunette's movements. He yanked the young man down by the neck, capturing his lips in a heated kiss, and smirked at the involuntary whimper he received. When he was done with that, he sucked a pert nipple into his mouth and toyed with it until he felt like it was time to switch, doing just that. The appreciative noises were slowly driving him insane, and he internally scolded himself for not doing this sooner.

At last, he felt the cock in his hand starting to pulse and throb, and he was grateful as fuck, because he'd been on the brink of coming for longer than he'd thought possible. Grimmjow's ass tightened as he finished with a loud moan, and it milked a sympathetic reaction from Ichigo, who's face flushed and eyes rolled back once more. He came harder than he'd ever come before, and he was nearly embarrassed at the goofy grin that flashed across his face. He wiped his cum/lube covered hand on a clean dish towel that was handed to him by a still-blushing Grimmjow.

"Shit. I might actually be bi." He smirked, eliciting loud guffaws from his naked companion. "Now get dressed, _baby._ We actually have to clean this dump before my professor gets back."

* * *

 _ **Hi! I just want to thank y'all so much for your continued support. I haven't updated in wayy too long, and I can't tell you how much I appreciate those of you that've stuck by this story and review, favorite, and follow. It makes me want to keep writing these. I've been dealing with a lot, and I love you all for not bailing, for lack of better words :).**_

 _ **Now onto the fun stuff! How'd you like the date? Ichi finally got his orange head out of his ass! I figured denial time is over, but they still have a few hurdles to overcome, so stay tuned!**_

 _ **Forgive me, but I kind of forgot where I took the notes on translations, so I can't clear things up this time :(. I promise though, next update will be farrr better.**_

 ** _Love,_**

 ** _The Sexta Espada_**


	7. THE SHOW MUST GO ON (update)

**_This is not a chapter, but I'm still writing this story._**

 ** _Hi! So I've been on a hiatus. A looong hiatus. I was looking through your comments for suggestions, and I'm so sorry. The love and support you guys give me every time I post a new chapter is beautiful, and I couldn't be more grateful. It really breaks my heart when I see those "when are you gonna update?" Comments especially, because I know the pain._**

 ** _The waiting. And the waiting. And the waiting. I know you guys only get one chapter a year from me, and for that I'm sorry, but the one thing I have to ask of you is that you continue to check back, because all of my new chapters are at least halfway finished (Seven Devils, Stranger Blues, and my personal favorite, Creep) and I have so many more ideas for these and more. The point is, don't be discouraged, because I appreciate you lovely people who bother to read the stuff I write, and I love writing Fanfiction (even though I never do it). Most importantly, because I don't want you to think I'm one of those authors that seemingly fell off of the face off the earth, and will probably never finish their stories. Like I said, I know the pain. *heavy sigh*_**

 ** _So, I'm writing a short little update for the wonderful people who follow my stuff. Basically, what I'm saying is…_**

 ** _It ain't over till it's over (and it's not)._**

 ** _Thank you so much for following whichever story you're following (I posted this on all three of my stories. Sue me. But don't, because I'm actually quite afraid of being sued…), and I will see you with the next update of that story. I know I say this at the end of almost every chapter, but I really do appreciate all the love you've given my work over the years, and I'm happy that I make you guys happy (once every eternity)._**

 ** _With extra love this time, because I really feel like a piece of shit for making you guys wait so long,_**

 ** _TheSextaEspada_**


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